Learning to Love
by dani.lutka
Summary: My own version of the "Dean and Cas getting together" story. They know they have feelings for each other, feelings they have to face when Cas comes to Dean and tells him he loves him. But it won't be easy and they aren't sure at times if they will make it. Pre!Slash, Spoilers for seasons 6-now. Angst! Domestic!Fluff and much, much, more. This is verging on 15 chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Learning to Love a Winchester

**Chapters:** 1/? (15 so far)

**Author:** myforgottenpain

**Rating:** MA/PG (For Now)

**Pairing**: Dean/Castiel/Destiel; implied Dean/Lisa

**Warning:** Spoilers for season 6 and on

**Summary:** Castiel tells Dean he loves him, but does he really know what that means, let alone what it takes to love the Winchesters?

**Notes:** I've tried to stick close to the basic events of the series. Also, I've decided to try adding song verses to the beginning of each chapter, to sort of summarize what each chapter is like. Comments and criticisms are welcomed.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything to do with Supernatural, Dean or Sam Winchester, Castiel, Lisa, Ben, Bobby Singer, or anything connected to them.

**Chapter One**

/ Cause I wonder where you are and I wonder what you do. Are you somewhere feeling lonely, or is someone loving you? Tell me how to win your heart, for I haven't got a clue. But let me start by saying, I love you. / ~Lionel Richie "Hello"

Dean jerked awake with such speed a normal person might have flinched, but Castiel was anything but that.

Remaining where he was, Cas watched as Dean turned to look at him. He didn't need to see it, to know Dean's hand was under the pillow gripping a firearm, ready to act at a moments notice. In the same way he knew that the mortal was relaxing that same grasp, as he processed that he was in the company of a friend.

But he did see it.

In that he saw Dean's shoulders lower just a little, as the tension left the muscles in them.

_How long has it been since something like this happened_? Dean found himself pondering, the sleepiness gone from his head as he thought back through the months since they had parted.

Goosebumps rose on his skin as he realized a few things. Not only was it unnaturally easy for him to accept Cas appearing like this again, but there was a part of him that had missed these moments. When they were alone, the Earth was still, and the boundaries always seemed lower.

The way Dean was looking at him interested Cas, as so much the mortal did. It wasn't true surprise, nor was it even angry, despite the hour this was taking place. There was an element of awareness, as if they had already discussed the details and had agreed upon this moment earlier in the day.

In fact, Dean looked like he could easily roll over and go back to sleep, while mumbling in a grumpy tone: "About time, hurry up and come to bed. And can you do me a favor Cas, could you stop being such a blanket hog?"

"Is everything..." Dean started to ask, and was immediately answered by Cas: "I love you."

Castiel could see it in Dean's expression, that had come out too bluntly. He had tried his best to find a direct, but gentle way to express himself, and had unsurprisingly failed.

He lowered his gaze as he tried to think of what to say to make it easier on Dean, when he heard an answer to his statement.

"I need a drink." Dean shoved his blankets away and crawled out of bed. Before going any further, he leaned over and looked at Sam closely, to make sure his little brother was still sound asleep in his own bed.

Castiel observed this with seemingly no emotional concern, but it did touch him. _Always the perfect, protective brother aren't you, Dean_?

They had found a room at their normal, although in this case slightly seedy, hotel. The bathroom was just to the right of where Dean was now standing, mini fridge to the left. By passing Cas for the moment, he went over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer from it. He popped the cap off with a quick twist of his wrist and tossed it to the floor.

Dean drank down half before deciding to grab another one, tucking it under his arm as he turned back to the other figure in the room. It was only then, that he met Cas' gaze again.

The angel was still standing where he had been when Dean woke up. Ever patient, ever still, waiting for Dean to finish what he needed to do.

Nervousness gripped Dean, causing him to look away from Cas. There were so many things he was good at. This, what was happening between them, was not one of them.

With a jerk of his head, Dean signaled Cas to follow him, as he walked into the bathroom. He flicked the light switch as he passed, which struggled to turn on, before giving up to its job.

The bathroom was cramped, filled with stained fixtures that had never been nice, not even when they had been new.

Dean set the spare bottle on the sink before turning to face Cas, leaning back against it. "Close the..." He didn't need to finish since Cas was already in the room with the door closed behind him.

"Why here?"

"I have a feeling we're going to need some privacy." Dean answered softly. He took a smaller drink and noticed the confusion on the angel's face. "What?"

"This is a dream, Dean." Cas stated as if it should be completely obvious.

"I dream about talking to you?" His eyes widened and before he could tell Cas he didn't really have to answer that, the angel did.

"Often."

Dean stared at the angel in disbelief, before shaking his head wearily. "You would think I would pick a better setting," he then added: "You were saying?"

"That I love you." Castiel repeated in a questioning way, as if unsure that was the correct response.

Taking a longer drink of alcohol, Dean nodded, "That would be it."

"Should I explain myself?" Cas asked.

"You do know," Dean started, answering the angel's question with one of his own, "that love can mean many things? I mean, I love a good cheeseburger, but..." He paused as he tried to decide what would be a good balance. "But not as much as my Baby." He indicated in the general direction he had parked the Impala.

"I am aware of that." Cas answered simply, "I have thought a lot about this before bringing it to your attention."

Dean nodded his head a few times and finished the rest of his beer in a single gulp. "Ok." It was like he had received the answer he wanted and yet had not at the same time.

"Is this upsetting you?"

"No," Dean answered sharply, replacing his empty bottle for the fresh one. "Is this about what you said to Sammy a few days ago?"

_Dean and I have a profound connection_.

"Are you mad that I told Sam that?"

The lack of response from Dean was almost more of an answer, than words could have been. Others might have demanded an answer. How many times had Sam tried and failed to extract desired information from his brother?

Even though Castiel wanted one, he knew he had to wait. It was obvious the mortal was thinking hard about how much he wanted to reveal.

When Dean responded, it wasn't to address what Cas had asked. "I thought you only came down because of the disco stick thing?"

Cas nodded, "Yes, I did say that." His eyes went to the side again as he added, "But only because I was uncertain about the way Sam reacted to what I said before that."

_Who would have guessed professing your profound bond with someone's brother would be so startling_?

"Well, it was a dick move that you answered my call and not his." Dean responded, even though part of him was really pleased. He liked the idea of Cas being more his than Sam's.

Cas saw the amused look on Dean's face and started to question it, before deciding not too for the time being, "I will from now on."

Since that topic seemed to be closed, and Dean wasn't offering any further conversation himself, Cas drew in a breath and continued his original explanation. "Even with everything that is happening in Heaven." He hesitated again, thinking about the shame he had experienced since the Apocalypse, for his brothers and himself. How many angels had he killed since this all began?

"With Raphael... I still worry about you." Castiel explained, "I want to keep you safe." That was after all, Cas thought to himself, why I am doing this. _It's all for you, Dean Winchester_.

Dean's response came in the snap and hiss of the remaining beer bottle being opened, followed by a long gulp of the cold liquid.

"You fought with me, when no one else would." Cas continued and this time he earned a brief glance from the man in front of him.

"I can relate to that."

Castiel nodded, thankful that Dean had finally answered him. He hated it, but he felt uncertainty creep over him. It had been so easy when he had his orders, making decisions for himself was harder than he imagined. This was especially true when it came to Dean. If there was anyone he wanted to protect, to love, if he could ever truly know how to express that; it was him.

Silence filled the space between them, so Cas looked around the room for a moment. His eyes settled on the floor and realized there was an unintentional boundary between them.

He was standing on a bright orange-colored bathroom rug, that was so worn out it had lost all the cushion. Dean was standing on the dingy tiling that was verging on an infected yellow color.

It suddenly occurred to Castiel that he might as well be standing on the edge of a precipitous. It would only take one step before he tumbled into oblivion.

A chuckle broke the silence finally, causing Cas to look up at Dean. He was happy to see that he was met with a smile that seemed to even reach those green eyes. Confusion settled on his face though, "What?"

"Nothing," Dean answered, although the smile lingered for a few seconds afterwards.

Castiel continued to examining Dean's expression. He felt that Dean had found amusement in the way he had looked at the rug. Why, Cas couldn't understand. It would have to be another mystery that was solved on a later date.

"I had a feeling," Cas started again, "that you might be able to relate..." He trailed off, noticing right away how Dean's body language changed. There was a tension in his form, like an animal when it's hair stands up on ends in moments of crisis.

Dean pressed the neck of the bottle against his lips, breathing in deeply the fumes that escaped the remaining alcohol. He then sipped from it, before setting it to the side.

Taking that step over the line that had been placed between them, Cas stood closer to Dean. He remembered, as Dean straightened his posture and met his eyes, the times the mortal had asked him to remember proper personal space. He didn't ask Cas to back off this time, instead, he immediately tried to flee from the situation.

Mostly because it didn't occur to him that he should, Cas didn't move out of the way as Dean pushed past him. The mortal wasn't able to move him, so their bodies pressed against each other as he slid past.

Uncontrollably, his body throbbed when he brushed against Cas, Dean struggled to ignore it.

Something reached Cas then, like a distant whisper. He turned as Dean finally made it past him, gazing at the back of his head. "I can do that."

"What?" Dean whispered, turning in time to once more have Cas extremely close to him. The angel's penetrating eyes reaching into him. It made him shake in the boots he had never taken off.

His mind raced with the desire that had sprung up when his body had come into contact with Cas' vessel.

But just as it seemed like Cas was thinking about possibly kissing him, he stopped. "Lisa..." Cas said softly, looking away from Dean again.

Dean's own gaze lowered then, regret washing over him. _How could he forget_? Did she really mean so little to him that he could shove her to the side without a second thought the moment Cas reappeared to him? He was still, sort of, in a relationship with her. And yet, his eyes moved to their corners as he stole a glance at Cas. Part of him ached to know...

Cas nodded his head slowly, even as he seemed to be studying the floor again. Returning his gaze to Dean's, he wasn't exactly sure what he had expected to see. But there was something in those green eyes that seemed to just be waiting for Cas' permission. Cas could wait for the question on Dean's mind to be asked. He could wait forever, after all, he had waited through that already just to unintentionally meet Dean to begin with.

But when he again heard the same whispered request from the mortal in front of him, he decided to enquire for Dean. "Did you want me to kiss you just now?"

At first, a sheepish smile formed on Dean's lips. "Well..."

For a moment it looked like Dean might say yes, the way his eyes sparkled in a cheeky manner, even Dean thought he would say yes.

"Not with Sam in the other..." Dean paused, remembering suddenly that this was not reality. "Same room?" The phrase sounded so strange, because it didn't really fit what was happening.

_What about your supposed girlfriend_? Dean screamed internally at himself.

Dean was suddenly very aware of how the space between himself, Castiel, and the door seemed to be shrinking. It was scary and wonderful at the same time. He was practically pressed against the door itself and a secret part of him wished Cas would _passionately _shove him against it.

The verbal answer was enough for Cas, the details easily dismissed for what seemed more pressing at the moment, which was what Dean's eyes seemed to be asking of him now. Cas' eyes closed a little more in focused concentration, "Do you want to..." He was cut off by Dean raising his hands in a silent request to stop, moving away from the door a little more.

He didn't give himself time to even think about, whatever it had been, that the angel had picked up from him. Instead he focused on answering as quickly as he could. "Definitely, not with Sam in the next room. _Especially,_ not when he is in the same one."

"Why does Sam's proximity matter so much?"

Dean was again caught off guard by the angel's eyes. How ancient they could be, yet still so innocent at the same time. He opened his mouth to answer and found that he wanted to laugh instead.

To just burst out laughing at the shear insanity of this moment. Standing in a cheap motel bathroom, a man who had tortured souls in Hell, thinking about kissing the angel who had pulled him out, and then trying to explain the birds and the bees to him.

"I'll tell you sometime." Dean answered softly, leaning back against the door.

"Alright." Cas answered after nodding a few times. In the silence that followed, the desire to ask Dean how he really felt rose up inside of him again.

As if suddenly becoming the one with extraordinary gifts, Dean's eyes quickly moved to Castiel's. There was something about them that both pleaded for the silence to continue, yet begged to release what he had kept from the world.

It was that moment when Sam would again try to make Dean just tell him what was bothering him. But Cas had watched the mortal long enough to know that this never worked. When Dean Winchester shut down, he was not going to say anything.

That time had come. Dean had given what he could, but he needed space now.

"You should go back to sleep." Cas replied softly.

Relief shown in Dean's eyes, even as he chuckled dryly, "I don't think I'm doing that anytime too soon." He turned anyways and opened the door, causing light to leak into the bedroom space except where his shadow blocked it.

Once Dean was out of the bathroom, Cas moved to the doorway and watched Dean as he walked back over to the bed. What he didn't expect was when the mortal turned and looked at him. Again, he felt like he would hear at any moment Dean's request for him to come with him.

_What are you waiting for? Are you coming to bed or not?_

He looked so tired suddenly, but not the kind that mortals felt when they just needed to go to sleep for a few hours. It was an emotional tiredness that came from literally having the weight of the world on his shoulders.

The light flicked off, even though Cas' arms were hanging at his side. By the time Dean turned back to face the bed, Castiel was already standing on the opposite side.

In the still of the darkness, as Dean's eyes adjusted, he wondered vaguely if things would be any less awkward if Cas wasn't an ethereal wave length. Would he be able to express any of the emotions he was feeling if Cas was just another hunter, or some irrationally cute guy next door? _Probably, most definitely, not_, he answered to himself.

Even if this could be a normal moment, if Dean could have anything close to a normal moment, just two tired guys crawling into bed after a hard day at work. _"Janet at the office invited us to her birthday party this weekend, Sweetheart." "Sounds like fun, Honey Buns, maybe Sam would like to double date with us?" _He stopped himself then because he realized he was once more ignoring Lisa.

What was he going to do about her?

Lisa had been good for him in so many ways. It had been good to be with the person that seemed to make sense. It was good to know he could get out of 'The Life' if he wanted to. It had been good to have the life he had never had before, the one he knew Sam wanted for him.

He would do anything for Sam, but this? Could he do this much longer? When the life he really wanted was here (literally standing in front of him), now that Cas was visiting again, even with the war in Heaven.

_What you should be asking yourself, Dean Winchester, is: do you, could you ever, deserve to be happy like that with anyone_?

Dean drew in a deep breath and sat down heavily on the mattress. He half leaned against the headboard, crossing his legs at the ankles as he drapped the blanket over his lap.

"Can I stay until you fall back to sleep?" Castiel asked in his normal straight forward way. An almost poker face expression despite what he had requested.

"Sure." Dean answered with a shrug, amazed at how easy the word had come out. He indicated to the spot next to himself, wondering if he had unconsciously hoped Cas would stay, leaving enough room for him in the process.

"You might be here for a while..." Dean paused for a moment and then added in a murmur, "You can always stay... for as long as you want."

Cas settled down into a sitting position on the space next to the mortal. "You will sleep soon."

The corner of Dean's mouth turned up in a grin. But before he could respond with the smartass comment that was just on the tip of his tongue, he realized his eyes did feel heavier.

He could feel himself sinking out of REM and into deeper, dreamless sleep. And just as he started to give himself over to it, he saw a small, but honest smile on Cas lips. He only had a moment to wonder if it was real, or just the ending fragments of his dream. _But it was truly beautiful_.

"Good night, Dean."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

/You see the world through your cynical eyes. You're a troubled young man I can tell. You've got it all in the palm of your hand, but your hand's went with sweat, and your head needs a rest./

~Styx "Fooling yourself (the angry young man)

A sharp in take of breath preceded Dean as he shot upright. He looked immediately to his side, expecting, _hoping_, Castiel would still be there. But the spot next to him was empty. He might have been able to brush it off as a strange dream if it wasn't for the crease where someone had sat on the left side of the bed.

Thankfully, a familiar noise distracted him from the thoughts that were bouncing around in his head.

Looking to his right, he saw Sam hunched over his laptop. One hand flying over the keyboard as his other brought a disposable coffee cup to his lips.

He didn't need to ask to know that the other coffee cup on the nightstand, between the beds, was his. He grabbed it off the stand and took a long drink of it before he even thought about what the temperature might be like. Thankfully, it was luke warm which meant Sam had been awake for a while now.

_Which means Cas has been gone for a while_... Dean thought, feeling a sadness that seemed to reach its icy cold fingers all the way into his soul and grip it.

With a groan, Dean moved to sitting on the edge, managing real interest in the case Sam had found. Dean drank the coffee down quickly and agreed to go with Sam to investigate more once he had a quick shower and a change of clothes.

And breakfast... something hearty, greasy, and fresh from a grill.

In the bathroom he flipped the light switch, watching as it struggled to stay on. It made him think about the night before, or maybe it had been earlier in the morning, with Cas. Thinking about standing in this cramped space brought a chill down his spine.

Stripping the clothes he had worn for the last 24 hours off, Dean tossed them into a heap on the floor, before turning the shower on. He didn't wait long before climbing in, he never had. Too many nights washing up in questionable circumstances, often cold and barely cleaner than Dean was, to care about how warm or cold it was exactly.

Water that was slowly becoming too hot, cascaded from the faucet, relaxing the overworked muscles in his back and shoulders. Leaning forward, and against the front of the stall, Dean closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of the water over his body.

His thoughts again brought him back to what had happened with Cas.

But what was he going to do now? He had been able to write off the comments before. The confessions of how everything Castiel had done had been for him. After all, he was new to human life, maybe he didn't know what he was saying?

Now, it was very plain he had known. In a way Dean knew this all along, but it had been easier to feign ignorance.

"Cas didn't _really_ mean just me Sammy, he _really_ meant all of us. Who would want to go through all that for just me?"

Dean couldn't deny that he had feelings along the same lines for Castiel, as confusing as they were, especially now that he had Lisa tangled in it. More than anything, he knew that this was not something he wanted to blindly run into. Whatever there might be, could be, (_a relationship_?) between them at all; the implications caused Dean to pause for a moment.

He undoubtedly desired Cas...

_I'm so fucked_.

But Dean didn't want to hurt him; and everyone that got close to him ended up damaged, or worse, for some unlucky people. He wasn't a good luck charm.

The thought that really scared him was, if he could somehow deal with Lisa, Sam, and everything else that was being stacked on his plate; could they even share anything like love, when one of them wasn't really a human?

He thought about his anger over Sam becoming entangled with a demon and mentally ridiculed himself for being fucking hypocritical. He knew from his own experience how well supernatural entanglements worked.

Dad himself said that _anything_ supernatural was evil, but would he have said that knowing Cas? Knowing what Cas did, how he had sacrificed for him-for them! Supernatural affairs had not worked in the past, how could it work now? And yet, he wanted to hope, to have faith in a being that had given him so much to believe in.

Pushing aside the doubt, Dean grabbed the mini container of complimentary shampoo and set about washing up. He had a case to think about, lives to save, the rest could wait a little while. After all, Cas was fighting a war up in Heaven. It would be a while before they would be able to talk like that again.

_Push it down deep Dean, push all that pain, fear, and longing, down all the way until hopefully it's forgotten_. Certainly, never dealt with.

The sudden realization of how much he wanted to talk to Cas again, (_forever_), dawned on him; making Dean sadder than he wanted to admit.

_This wasn't right_...

/

Multiple times, Dean stole glances to his brother. But Sam was either playing his best game of indifference, or something was terribly wrong.

_Or Dean really was loosing it_.

Sam turned the page of his book, seemingly unaware of Dean's growing concern. He wished Sam was reading something that might be considered light. It didn't have to be porn or Vonnegut. He would have taken Sam reading aloud to him from the comic section of the newspaper, anything but the giant book on his lap. The frayed edges of the ancient text seemed to taunt him.

The silence was broken when Sam started to recite information to him. Dean couldn't even process what was being said. All he could do was try to figure out why Sam wasn't sending him death glares.

Why wasn't Sam mad about what Dean had confessed to the Goddess of Truth? Why didn't he want to know how things were going with Lisa? Where was the unwanted help and advise?

It made Dean squeamish, gripping and regripping the steering wheel.

"Are you listening?" Sam asked and this was the first time in nearly an hour Sam has looked to his brother, let alone talked to him.

Dean shifted in his seat and turned his gaze back to the road ahead of them. "Sure."

Sam doubted Dean was being truthful, but he couldn't make himself worry about it anymore than he was already.

_Maybe I should be more concerned_?

_About what though,_ Sam suddenly contemplated, eyebrows drawing in together as he tried to decide what he should do. He found himself analyzing the moment like he would plan out the attack on an alpha.

If I place my logical response at the advantage point on the left side of the cave, would it cause Dean's reaction to come from the West or the East? And if so, should he infiltrate Dean's emotional barricade at dawn or wait until the next full moon? There was a ritual that might allow Sam to banish Dean's doubt, but there were repercussions for his actions. Dean would no doubt resist whatever attempts he made at establishing communications with him...

_Still_...

He remembered what Dean had said, when they had talked to Veritas. The weight of Dean's confession equal to the way he felt watching her cut out a dead man's tongue so she could feast on it.

And what a bounty their tongues would have been, she had revealed. So well-trained in the art of lies and manipulation.

He couldn't really believe Dean only thought of himself in terms of being able to kill things. He was good at that, but surely he knew there was more to him than that.

After all, angels had gone into the pits of hell to find him. One had managed to pull him out. And the friendship that Dean obviously shared with the solider of God surely should put to rest any lingering doubt his brother had about his own self-worth?

Sam felt he would have tried to tell Dean that. He would have tried to go through the whole speech about Dean being worth saving, that they couldn't survive without one another. That Dean was the best big brother that ever walked the Earth.

But it all died on his educated tongue.

Shifting in his own spot, Sam turned his attention back to the book and once more started reciting random quotes from it.

Dean's vision blurred a little, realizing how sad and tired he was. But that didn't matter, he would give in to self-pity when Sam was back to normal. Or as normal as his favorite freak was.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:**

/The sun goes down, the stars come out. And all that counts, is here and now. My universe will never be the same. I'm glad you came./ The Wanted "Glad You Came."

This sudden wake up wasn't nearly as startling as it had been the last time. In fact, for a moment Dean imagined he had never woken up. That seeing Sam, hearing about the case, and actually going through with it and all the fucked up shit in between; that had all been the dream.

Dean was sitting in bed, propped against the headboard just as he had been before. Looking to his left he saw Castiel sitting on the edge of the bed, like he had never left.

Looking to his right, he saw Sam sound asleep again, but that couldn't be right. "Is he..." Dean asked, barely pointing to his baby brother as he looked to Cas.

"You are dreaming about Sam sleeping." Castiel answered, twisting in his spot to look at Dean.

The answer didn't bring nearly as much comfort as he had hoped, mostly it reminded him about what he was facing with his little brother. "Of course, sure, why not?"

"He won't wake up, if that's what you are concerned about."

Dean realized he was relieved that they didn't have to awkwardly stand in the bathroom again. Then again, there was something horribly tempting about staying here in bed with him too.

"Is it alright, that I came to you like this again?"

There was so much concern in those words. Always trying to please him, Dean realized as he sat up. "It's fine." He leaned forward a little, wishing he had something to drink. "What do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

_Was there was a flash of guilt in those blue eyes_?

"I just wanted to see you." Castiel admitted, "to see how you were handling Sam's soul being gone."

"How the hell do you think I'm handling it?" Dean snapped, instantly regretting it. Even more so when he really paid attention to the way Cas was acting. He wasn't looking at him, and there seemed to be something so painfully ashamed about the way he was looking at the floor.

"Can we talk about something else?" Dean whispered, looking to his own hands. "Unless you know something that can help me get Sam's soul back."

"I don't."

Even Castiel's voice sounded sad, Dean observed.

Truthfully he wanted to do anything but talk... about anything really. But Cas was looking at him again, and there was something about that silent glance that compelled him. There was an almost painful need to know in his eyes. Then again, Cas had spent the last millennium or so having direction given to him, always knowing where his course lied at the end of the day. If angels even have sunrises and sunsets the same way humans do.

A weary sigh broke from Dean's mouth and when he opened his eyes he found a new bottle of whiskey and a glass tumbler sitting in front of him.

He touched the rim of the glass and chuckled, "You should have brought one for yourself."

It was obvious that Castiel didn't understand and yet in an instant, there was another glass tumbler in his hands.

Dean cracked the wax seal off the top of the bottle and poured some into both of them. He then raised his glass and clicked it against Cas' in a silent toast, before drinking his own down.

Understanding crossed Castiel's face, causing his jaw to drop a little. He drank down the whiskey he had been given before looking at the glass thoughtfully.

"So you wanted to talk?" Dean asked softly, already knowing about what.

"If you want too."

Dean chuckled, "I don't want too..." He looked to Castiel through the corner of his eyes, then quickly to his own hands, "but we should."

Cas nodded, part of him couldn't help but feel a touch of honor, knowing that Dean was doing the one thing he wouldn't do with Sam, easily share what he was thinking. But all the same, he felt guilt. He knew that the pain in Dean's eyes was because of the internal struggle with what he believed he should be able to handle alone and the ever-present reality of his abilities.

Keeping those thoughts to himself, Cas focused on watching as Dean poured them both more whiskey. Dean then leaned against the headboard. Resting the glass against his chest, Dean chuckled, as if remembering some forgotten joke.

He grew serious then, staring at his glass, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course." Cas sat up straighter unconsciously, not understanding why that question made him feel excited suddenly.

After a few seconds of silence, Dean's serious expression had Castiel convinced that the mortal might just give up something real about himself. However, he was met with a twist when instead Dean suddenly leaned forward again, semi-crossing his legs as he sat up. " Can you ever relax?" When his question was met with expected confusion, Dean rolled his eyes and reached across the space between them to loosen Cas' tie forcefully.

Cas' eyes dropped so he was looking down at Dean's hand on his tie, or well, the tie that had belonged to Jimmy Novak when he had become the angel's vessel.

"Does that help you?" Cas asked, turning his gaze back to Dean.

"No..." Dean answered, "try leaning back like I am." He scooted back into his original position, to model for Cas.

Stiffly, Cas tried to copy what Dean was doing by moving so he was sitting next to the mortal, but with little success.

"Now put your feet up." Dean requested, indicating to his own legs to show Cas what to do.

"Is this better?" Cas asked.

There was something so distressing about the way the angel was sitting. Cas was completely rigid in his spot, hands pressed hard into the comforter under him, on either side of his hips. There was an apprehensive look on his face as he stared earnestly at Dean.

He was like the good choir boy who was afraid his parents might walk in just as he was uttering some forbidden phrase.

"No..." Dean sighed, paused a moment to take the whole scene in and then shook his head, "Never mind, just do what you normally do."

"Thank you." Cas immediately moved back to sitting on the edge. He looked about as comfortable as Cas could be then.

Dean was brought out of his inner thoughts when he heard Cas' voice reach him, "Is that all you wanted to ask?"

He realized he was shaking his head only after he had started.

"No, that wasn't the only thing I wanted to ask." His eyes moved to his hand when he heard a familiar noise, finding that Cas was pouring more whiskey into his glass. He turned his eyes to the angel in time for Cas to tap his own glass against Dean's.

The act alone was done with careful precision, like a model builder constructing a boat in a bottle. As if the slightest breath or lapse in judgment would cause the whole affair to collapse on itself.

As soon as the silent toast was done, Cas turned his eyes up to Dean's. There was such an innocently, pleased smile, that made his eyes brighten.

For a moment, all Dean could do was stare at Cas, amazed at the simple and yet perfect actions of the other being.

The corner of Cas' mouth moved into a grin, his eyes suddenly older and wiser in the ways of the world. There was even a touch of amusement mixed in there. "You wanted to kiss me again, just now."

Dean did his best to restrain the smile of acknowledgement, pressing his glass to his cheek and diverted his eyes.

Cas' smile continued, though some what sadder as he lowered his eyes to his lap. He admired his own glass of alcohol and then drank it.

"Man..." Dean shook his head a little, "Nothing says winning at life-like waking up with all the fun shit that comes along with being human?"

"I don't understand what you mean," Cas admitted, knowing that Dean was being sarcastic, which was what was troubling him.

Dean chuckled,"You told me once, that you never had the _occasion_..." He trailed off when he noticed the way Cas looked suddenly. It was beyond uncomfortable, was it _embarrassed_? Damn was that cute.

"You're not taking me back to that den of perversion are you?"

Dean couldn't help but laugh loudly at the question, the note of real concern in it, and the memory of trying to get Cas laid by a whore. The: _This might be our last night on Earth_ speech extended to include the footnote: _you're not dying a virgin_.

And he recalled suddenly, that it had been with Cas that he had again been able to really feel joy.

"No man, I mean, what is it like..." he faltered in his statement as he struggled to find the right way to express himself. "Existing for so long... and suddenly going from not having any sexual urges to having them?"

The only response he got for his question at first was Castiel staring at him blankly and blinking. Which made Dean wonder if he had spoken to quickly. Maybe Cas' version of love didn't have a physical aspect to it? Cas had never said it _didn't_, so he had assumed..._You know what they say about /ass/umptions_...

Finally, just when Dean was getting really uneasy, Cas answered: "I feel I should tell you, I am not specifically sexually motivated towards either gender. If that is what you are asking."

"Really?" Dean asked, generally surprised by the response.

"Really." Cas repeated as seriously as he had answered originally.

"So...women...?" Dean started, his body language showing he wanted Cas to fill in the blanks.

"Some are very beautiful, interesting, inspiring even. However, I have discovered that I am uncomfortable around them. Too much so I feel to enjoy the act of sex." Cas answered bluntly, "I am afraid they will run out of the room screaming."

"You're a fucking angel, Cas!" Dean cried enthusiastically, amazed that it wasn't obvious how he could get laid all the time if he really wanted to be.

"They don't know that." Cas answered simply, "being an angel did not help the last time."

Dean wanted to call Castiel a child, but held his tongue. "Ok, forget that, but guys?"

"Not all males." Castiel replied.

"But you are attracted to some?" Dean asked.

Cas shook his head, "that is an incorrect assumption." A small, conflicted smile formed on his lips when he saw the disbelief in Dean's expression. "I am attracted, if that is the right word to use, to _one_ male."_ Someone I can trust... someone who I know understands and has accepted me_...

Heat washed over Dean, causing him to lean back. His heart was pounding hard in his chest and he suddenly wished Sam could wake up.

Cas saw it again then. The internal struggle in Dean to be what he thought he had to be. He had seen it so many times in the short time he had been around the brothers. But he knew the look well and had been able to categorize it in what Bobby would have called something like the "Emotional Void For the Psychologically Fucked Up Men of The Winchester Family."

For Dean, it was how he viewed his role in this life and the requirements he needed to fulfill to maintain it. Keep Sammy safe, being the best hunter, and giving 120% for his family. All while being the best lover random strangers ever met.

The absolute image of what a man should look like, act, and sound. Even if it was an idealized persona from decades before Dean was even born. Even if it was an idea that had been someone else's image, pushed on to him, and held up beyond anything he might let himself feel. He had to act a certain way, or his long dead father would be disappointed. He would fail Sam, the world as he knew it would cease to exists.

He, Dean Winchester, was a classic man. Just like the car he drove and the music he listened too. Although, if anyone had said that about his choice of cassettes, he would have punched them in the face.

More importantly, it was an impossible task. Which was perfect for the self-loathing Dean could never let go of.

"This is all very confusing."

Dean's eyes widen in a _you think_ sort of way. "Trust me..." He paused to drink the whiskey that Cas had given him. "You are not alone."

More drinks were poured and drank before Dean found himself expressing what had weighed on his mind since the moment Castiel had dropped the reality of their friend-_relation_-ship in his lap. "It wasn't like this..." he started carefully.

He could feel Cas staring at him, making him want to stop what he was about to say. "When we were talking to Jimmy Novak I mean."

Cas could see how the mortal was struggling for a way to express himself, but he remained silent, letting Dean work it out.

I wasn't _as_ attracted to him, Dean wanted to say, but chose instead: "When you weren't in there, if that makes sense." Dean laughed at himself, but not in an amused manner, instead it was a self-defeating one. "There was still this stupid part of me that was jealous when he was kissing his wife."

"It does make sense."

Wonder filled Dean's eyes when he finally looked to Cas again, then a real, but sad smile formed, taking in the angel's peaceful expression. He found himself again thinking about how much he might like to kiss the angel, wondering if Cas could see it in him like he had before.

_This would not be my first gay kiss_, Dean's mind reminded him. _You won't be my first anything_, his internal monologue continued. _Which makes me sad, because I wish I had saved something just for you. To give in return for all the firsts you are giving to me_.

"He won't wake up." Cas reminded Dean suddenly, as if he was picking up on what Dean was thinking, and more importantly, desiring to do.

Dean's face quickly reflected the panic he was suddenly feeling. What he wanted to do and what he should do, collided with what he realized he _could_ do.

This was not something he was ready to deal with. He had not yet worked out a reasonable plan for loving Cas without putting his grace in jeopardy.

_Wake up Sammy_! Dean's eyes uncontrollably screamed as he looked quickly to the subconscious version of Samuel Winchester, who turned on his bed, without waking up. Which was completely ridiculous Dean's mind tried to reason, because Sammy didn't sleep anymore. He was probably working on his lap top, doing what he had done for the last year. Not sleeping, not eating, but killing lots of supernatural things with his new buddies!

Later, Dean would wonder why he had not only _dreamed_ about Sam sleeping, but why he continued to have him in the dream, even with everything that was happening between himself and Cas.

Cas seemed to understand anyways, nodding slowly as he whispered: "Not with Sam in the same room." He guessed, remembering the night when he had confessed his feelings.

Dean nodded as he shifted uneasily in his spot, even if that had nothing to do with what made him question what was being offered to him. "Never with Sammy in the same room," he mumbled the sentence with no real conviction to go along with the statement.

It was Castiel's turn to pour the whiskey, he hesitated with the bottle over Dean's glass. "Dean..." Their eyes looked up at the same time and met. "May I ask you something?"

_No, no, no_... Dean sighed, "Sure, once you pour something into my glass."

"You seem to enjoy the company of females," Cas stated the second he finished pouring whiskey into Dean's glass. "They don't make you nervous."

"I have been known to make the occasional friend with the opposite sex." Dean answered with an intentionally goofy smile, his eyes showing that he was thinking fondly of some of those past conquests.

"But you also enjoy spending time with men?"

Dean was thoughtful for a moment, drank some of his whiskey and then nodded, "What can I say?" He started in a sarcastic manner, "I'm a people person."

When he noticed that this answer didn't appease the angel, he sighed, "I'm just going to come out and tell you this, because frankly, you deserve it. I do. I have in the past a time or two and not only because it might have been my last night on Earth."

There was a considerate expression on Castiel's face, as he held his full glass.

It was hard to ignore how perplexed the angel was becoming, which Dean found both found endearing and straining, "For fucks sake, you can have a another question if you need one."

"Does Lisa know?"

Dean slowly winced from the question, hanging his head he shook it, before drawing in a breath to look at Cas. His voice didn't seem to want to work for him, so he just gazed at the angel with sad eyes and prayed he would understand.

"No." Cas guessed, nodding his head in understanding when Dean looked away from him. There was guilt there again, as Cas looked down "Should I be jealous?"

The question completely shocked Dean and for a moment he didn't know what to say. "Of?"

"Of these other people... that you become friends with when I am not around?"

He couldn't read the angel's mind, but he had the feeling something wasn't being said, just as the answer popped into Dean's mind,_ Lisa_. The question should have been: _Should I be jealous of your sort of girlfriend, Lisa_? He could see the pain in Castiel's crystal blue eyes, when the angel realized he had caught on. It made Dean feel like less than shit.

"Well..." Dean plastered on a fake grin, shrugging a little as he finished his own glass. "Listen, I could tell you, you shouldn't so I could get away with... well.. anything I wanted too." _Aren't you already, you prick_? Dean asked himself. _Aren't you already having your cake and eating it too, as that stupid ass saying goes_?

"But that would be false?" Cas guessed.

"Friends no, friendly friends, maybe."

"Friendly friends?" Cas repeated slowly, as if trying to understand what Dean meant. He looked back to the mortal, looked _into_ Dean's eyes, and realized he did understand what he was hinting at. "Oh..."

Dean chuckled as he reached out and exchanged his empty glass for Cas' full one and drank from it. "I can't tell you to be jealous..."

"Of Lisa?"

Dean winced harder this time when he heard the comment, afraid to look at Castiel. Afraid to see the judgment in those eyes. But when he did, he didn't see any. It unnerved him, even if he was glad that Cas hadn't quite mastered the soul shattering puppy stare like Sam had.

But soon, Cas did have an apprehensive expression again, as he thought about what Dean had told him. His answer however, came from nowhere, "You probably want to get your sleep."

Confusion now appeared on Dean's face, "What, excuse me?"

Cas was standing now, "You usually don't want to talk this long. I've watched you long enough..."

"Whoa," Dean held his hands up, "Don't be creepy, Cas."

There was that look of confusion again on Cas' face, "How am I supposed to know when you need help, if I don't...?"

"That's different." Dean put in quickly.

"But you said I could stay with you while you slept?"

Dean paused, Castiel had a point there. He was so distracted by this realization, that he didn't realize Cas was now on his side of the bed, still leaning in, with an obvious intention.

It was only in the final moment, that Dean realized Cas had gone for his forehead. He found himself holding his breath anyways, his eyes closing in contentment, his heart beginning to beat wildly in his chest. And then, just as the angel's lips met his temple, he was gone. A soft sigh escaped, as his eyes fluttered, and Dean suddenly felt like he was falling in slow motion. His head spinning as the world around him became hazy.

_That's right...I'm sleeping in the real world... my dream is ending_... was the last thought that floated through him as he fell back into unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

****extra warning for the brief sexual situation**  
**

**Chapter: 4**

_Forcing that mutilated thing down his gullet could be catastrophic_.

Dean replayed the way Cas had looked during that moment over and over in his head. Sometimes, when he didn't even mean too. He thought of the outrage in Cas' voice and felt his pants become more restrictive.

Just like now.

He wasn't sure if spending time in the Pit had caused him to start enjoying fighting on this level, or if it was just the sexual tension between himself and Cas. But when he saw those emotions rise up in Castiel, he felt a sudden and powerful urge to throw him on the nearest hard surface and have his way with him.

Anyone be damned, who happened to be stuck in the same room as them when it happened.

Which made Dean feel slightly sick, since the fight had been about Sam's tattered soul. And here he was getting aroused by the way Castiel had looked when he was telling him all the downsides to putting Sammy back together.

But Dean didn't really want to think about any of that, not right now. Not when he had been recalling about how incredibly desirable Cas had looked when he was trying so hard to make Dean listen and understand what could go wrong.

Sliding his hand down and into his pants, Dean shuttered when his fingers came into contact with his arousal. He wondered vaguely, as he started to stroke himself, what Cas would do if he could see this. Would he stand there and watch Dean with bemused bewilderment, would he depart quickly, or would he help?

Dean moaned softly at that thought and wondered if he should pray and invite the angel down directly. _Dear Lord, send me thy rebellious son Castiel, so that he can assist in releasing the tension he caused in my neither regions_.

And how exciting would it be if Cas would actually show up? It made Dean stroke himself harder, biting his bottom lip as he gripped the bathroom sink for support. And in that blissful moment, nothing else mattered. Not that putting Sam's soul back in his body might be a huge disaster. Not being forced to work with Crowely, not the mysterious resurrection of their grandfather who betrayed them for the King of Hell. None of it.

All that matter was Dean thinking about Cas, holding onto that desire as he rode out a bittersweet orgasm that left him aching more for the real thing.

Dean washed his hands off, adjusted his pants and then splashed water on his face. For a moment, he only stared at his own reflection in the mirror, wondering how it had all come down to this moment. Dean Winchester was not supposed to be a hunter, he was supposed to live an apple pie life with his nuclear family in fucking Mayberry U.S.A.

He wasn't supposed to live, every year since that car accident was a fluke.

He was supposed to be in Hell, being tortured even when he wasn't the one on the rack. Because a righteous man doesn't always make the best decisions.

But if none of that had happened. If the yellow-eyed demon had never come into Sammy's nursery that night, would any of the other things have happened then? After all, Dean had been Michael's vessel and Sam Lucifer's. So wouldn't their destiny have always ended that way? No matter how they had been raised?

That would be a problem for another day, maybe after Sam's soul was back. Because Dean couldn't really imagine his brother being better off without it.

He hung his head as he remembered what Cas had said before leaving. That they might fail, and if they did, Sam would suffer horrifically for it.

No, Dean had to hold on to the idea that Sam would be better because of his soul being back. That he would be instantly better and that life could continue like normal, even if everything he had ever experienced contradicted what he just thought. He had to believe in it, just like he had to believe that some day he would figure things out with Cas.

From the doorway, Castiel watched Dean, as the mortal hunched over the sink. He could almost see the weight of Dean's worries on the mortal's shoulders.

Whither Dean had really meant it or not, Cas had heard his sarcastic prayer, and had seen what the mortal had done. He had not made his presence known though, for reasons he wasn't even quite sure of.

Silently, he had watched as Dean toweled his face off and then walked right past him, unaware of the company he had.

He followed Dean as he walked into the bedroom area of the motel, observing as he discarded his towel to the floor. For a moment, Cas stopped and stared at it. Realizing he wanted to pick it up very much then, and at least place it on the bed. Something about seeing that crumbled up, damp towel, on the floor annoyed him.

As suddenly as he thought of that, he imagined following Dean around a house with a laundry basket on his hip. Grumbling to himself in a manner that was only partially annoyed, because for once it would be nice if Dean could just take care of his work clothes by himself. But part of him would enjoy caring for Dean...

The idea was ridiculous, but pleasant at the same time. Cas pushed it aside and turned his attention to the mortal, who had just cracked open a new beer and had sat down to continue working.

Moving over to the table, Castiel gazed over Dean's shoulder, his eyes scanning over the text that Dean was reading. Unconsciously, his eyes drifted from the book page and to Dean's hand, watching the tendons and muscles working in his fingers as he tapped them on the table.

Before he knew it, Cas was staring at Dean's neck and his profile, feeling strange desires stirring inside of him. He thought again of what he had just seen Dean doing, wondering what it might have been like if he had joined him. What would it be like to help Dean feel that good?

His own thoughts were interrupted when Sam came back in. Dean greeted his brother happily and Cas wished desperately that he could feel the same way. He still did not like idea of putting Sam's soul back. It felt wrong, even though he wanted to do anything to help the younger Winchester. Even if he had not been forced to agree to, he would have, if only to make Dean happy.

And a part of him had come to love the younger Winchester. He knew it was not the same way he loved Dean, nor even as powerfully. It was a strong, but different love, much like the way he felt for his own brothers.

Cas watched the brothers interacting for a few more minutes, not really listening to what they were saying, just observing the way they acted. Even without his soul, Sam still had the same mannerisms he had before. It made it even harder to believe that he had messed things up as much as he had.

He was being called back to Heaven then and with great reluctance he left his favorite humans to attend to his bigger problem. He ascended into Heaven, shedding his vessel and appearing to his brothers and sisters in his true form.

The battle waged on, even if his thoughts still lingered on the Winchesters. He would mean it, when he told them later that he wished he could be with them.

Every clash of an angel sword made him want to forsake his grace. Every time he plunged that sword into another angel, was another time he wanted to rip his own wings off. He wanted to be a mud monkey, rolling in his own filth. That is, when he wasn't sitting in the Impala listening to Sam and Dean argue over which was better: the cassette tape or the newest Apple product. _Whatever those were_.

He wanted to be there with Dean when he needed him, for anything. Not just when his heart was broken, or Sam was broken, but when he needed to be loved. To tell Dean that he understood now what he had meant when Dean had told him that he would give him an hour with Meg. He didn't want an hour with her, he wanted that hour with Dean.

And he would find a way to make Dean understand that.

/

An unmeasurable amount of time passed, with Dean fully awake, unable to sleep or face the world around him. So instead, he watched the growing light form shapes on the ceiling. Sam never slept, so he was up anyways, though he believed Dean was sleeping. This Sam didn't worry about whither Dean was faking it, or not.

As soon as Sam had left, Dean's sore eyes had opened, and thus the starring had begun.

Through the space between the partly opened curtains, he could see his little brother and their resurrected grandfather talking outside. Part of him wished he had talked to Cas about that instead of having the heart to heart that ended up happening.

But in the silence of the room, the angel's name made him once more resort to thinking about the time that had passed since those doors in Poniac had burst open; and God's little solider had come strolling in, ignorant of so much, despite having an unlimited knowledge of the Earth's history.

Once in a while a car would pass, causing a loud whooshing noise to break the overall stillness of the room, as headlights swept over the space.

Finally, when he couldn't take it any more, Dean got up. Grabbing the keys, he fled the hotel. Little Sammy Winchester was just coming back with grandfather Samuel, when Dean pulled out of the driveway. The brother's eyes locked, but there was no yelling from Sam. He didn't rush the car to beg Dean to stop, or to at least take him along. There was just the cold, almost blank look of an animated meat suit with no soul to warm his features.

It made Dean want to cry harder than he already wanted too.

He drove aimlessly at first, then to get food. He thought about how important eating was to him, wondering if he would have inhaled comfort food into obesity if being a hunter didn't keep him slim. By the time he had decided what he wanted to bring back he had to refill the gas tank.

Sam was back in the hotel room by then. His younger brother was sitting at the little table with his laptop. His face superficially concerned when he saw Dean, slowly closing the phone that he had been using to try and call him.

Dean raised one hand to signal for Sam to stop, as he shook his head, "Don't."

"Where have you been?" Sam asked anyways, rising from his chair as his brother walked over to him.

"Sammy don't."

There was a familiar edge and depth to Dean's voice, the warning rattle of a snake ready to attack. But Sam knew this snake and he was pretty sure he had become immune to its venom after a lifetime of bites. "You didn't tell us where you were going, Samuel was..."

Dean dumped his bags hard onto the table and turned dark eyes to his little brother. "I've asked nicely."

The edge was still there, but there was also a slightly pleading tone at the same time. Sam sighed deeply and started to help his brother unpack the bags he brought in. The more he pulled out, the more his face crunched up in confusion. "Were you drunk when you went shopping?"

"Why do you ask that?" Dean asked, his tone on the opposite side now, as if the anger had taken all his strength.

"You have three different types of potato chips in here. Do we really need five pounds of salt..?"

"We're almost out." Dean interrupted defensively.

"Whiskey?"

"That's mine." Dean, grabbing the new bottle and immediately cracked it open.

"Trail mix?" Sam asked, wrinkling his nose as he turned an apprehensive gaze to his brother. It was the sweet kind, with more yogurt covered things and sugary chips of different flavors than actual healthy food. But it did have a few raisins and peanuts to maintain its "trail mix" status.

Sadness spilled over Dean's features when he remembered that this Sammy didn't eat health food, because he didn't eat anything. "That..." He trailed off looking frustrated and miserable. "That was supposed to be for you."

"Thanks." Sam answered, trying to make the emotion seem real and then went back to the bag. "Where do you even get fried chicken at this time of the day and why would you want it?" Sam asked, holding up a container that was still warm and slightly damp from grease.

"You can get anything you want with a face like this." Dean answered, his expression more carefree as he reached into the container and pulled a piece out. "But mostly because they didn't have any pie, _weirdos_."

Sam's face twisted with disgust as he felt his stomach turn, "that's disgusting."

"Love you too, Sammy..." Mid-chew Dean remembered, his voice distant as if Cas was standing far away and trying to talk to him in a strong windstorm.

_I love you_.

He saw the change immediately, maybe even before Dean felt it. Sam watched as the chagrin that had started to show melted away and Dean's eyes became distant. There were so many emotions battling in his older brother's eyes.

And he felt distant from it.

Dean was thinking of something that took his breath away, something that left him torn and yet oddly hopeful. But he wouldn't talk about what made him look like that. Not until something drastic had happened, like one of them died and mysteriously came back _again_. Then, maybe, he might share some of what was weighing on him.

"Should I...?" Sam started, sighing again when Dean answered the question with a single look. "OK, but we will talk about it soon."

Lowering his gaze, Dean nodded his head in consent of what would some day need to be done.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

/What would you do, to get to me? What would you say, to have your way? Would you give up, or try again?...If at first you don't succeed, dust yourself off and try again. You can dust it off and try again./ ~Aaliyah "Try Again."**  
**

"I want to be jealous."

"Jesus Christ..." Dean let out his breath and shook his head. "You need to learn how to come over like a normal person."

"I don't under..."

"I know, I know..." Dean sighed, finally looking at Cas. He watched the angel, watching him, and then groaned in annoyance. "Where are we?"

"A little town on the border of Kansas." Castiel replied casually, tilting his head when Dean threw his hands up in the air. "Is something bothering you?"

"The last thing I remember I was going to bed."

"You successes in that."

"Good to know, so I'm assuming this is a dream then?"

"Yes, Sam told me once that you liked the pie here..."

Dean turned around rapidly, his eyes wide with wonder and understanding, "Pie?" How could he have forgotten? It all came back to him in a wonderful wave, of one of those few sweet memories, in months of literal Hell.

They were standing in front of a family run diner that had been built in the 50s. The menu, decor, and staff, had experience little change since that opening date. It was dusty and outdated, but delicious and welcoming.

He had not just _liked_ the pie here, he _loved_ the pie here. The woman who owned it had made pies for nearly two (and a half, she had been delighted to point out) times as long as he had been alive. A traditional recipe handed down from her mother and her mother's mother. The kind brought over from the vaguely titled: old world. She had been 1/3 of his height and had pinched Sam's cheeks and slapped Dean on the ass; which just made him adore her more.

They had saved her diner from the ghost of one of her ex-lovers, who had died a few months before their arrival. At first the haunting had been pleasant, a reminder of the love they had shared. But recently it had turned ugly and mean, even to his ex-lover.

Cas answered by pointing towards the diner, slowly following Dean into it.

Crossing the threshold, Dean was greeted by the scent of fresh pastry, bacon crisping on a hot griddle, and perking coffee. It wrapped around him like a cozy blanket and warmed the tiny broken pieces of his heart.

Turning to his left, he saw a booth that nearly beckoned to him. So much so, he could almost see a halo of light shining from it. Red plastic seats around an ivory colored table top with a chrome edging. There was a paper place-mat, displaying what was probably a greeting from the diner on it, perfectly arranged with carefully wrapped silverware next to it. On it though was the real prize, a plate that had a giant serving of warm pie.

Even from this distance, Dean could smell it. The sugar, the fruit, the love that was wrapped in it during the baking. His mouth was watering at the thought of how good it had tasted.

There was also a cup with fresh coffee in it and an additional pot with more next to it. The cherry on top of it all was a little crystal vase with a single daisy in it.

"Does this please you?" Cas asked, suddenly right behind Dean.

"That?" Dean finished the question by indicating to himself.

A small, brief, but happy smile, appeared on Cas' face as he nodded. He watched as Dean beamed and practically danced over to the waiting dessert.

"I'm glad you are happy. There is more if you want it."

Dean looked up from his plate and realized there was a whole pie waiting in the empty spot where a companion would sit. "You amaze me sometimes."

He was nearly finished with his first piece when something finally dawned on him. Chewing thoughtfully, Dean's eyes moved to Cas again. The angel was standing next to the empty seat across from him.

The expression on Cas' face said it all. He had an anxious posture as he eagerly waited to make sure that everything was indeed perfect for Dean.

Slowly sitting back in his seat, Dean placed his fork down.

"Is something wrong?" Cas asked.

"Can you sit down?" Dean asked, indicating to the spot across from him.

Soundlessly, Cas did as the mortal asked, though he wasn't any more relaxed sitting than he was standing.

"Why did you do this?"

Guilt flashed in Cas' eyes and he diverted his gaze around them for a moment.

"Cas?" Dean said the nickname in a authoritative tone that made the angel look at him.

"You will become angry if I tell you."

Dean sighed, "I won't, I promise."

"Your dreams have been... troubled lately." Castiel answered. He paused to make sure Dean wasn't going to get upset. While he didn't get a pleased look, the mortal said nothing. "I wanted to give you something nice to remember."

Dean couldn't count how many times he had heard people say that something melted their hearts, but he felt it now. He looked down at his plate again and really noticed the details, pulled from different memories. All good, although distant in his recollection.

The pattern on the plate was from a set that Bobby had in his kitchen. He suddenly recalled as if it had been yesterday, how dad had dropped them off at Bobby's for the first time.

Robert Singer had been a stranger then, a man who had never had to care for children in his entire life. He had tried to make them lunch, serving them burnt grilled cheese sandwiches on these same plates. They had tasted horrible, but even then Dean had understood that this stranger was trying to do something his own father couldn't.

That the man he would soon call his surrogate father was trying his best to make them comfortable, happy even, in a completely traditional manner. Which made them the best sandwiches he had ever ate in his young life.

It was also the first time he had called them idjits.

He and Sammy had teased Bobby endlessly about it for days afterwards, egging each other on until some horror overwhelmed it; because who really can't make a grilled cheese sandwich?

But it was probably that first line of glue that had bound them together, a family that none of them had expected, and yet one they would someday give everything for.

The place-mat looked like a sign from another diner he loved in New Jersey. He had gone over 100 miles out-of-the-way one time, Sam blah-blah-blahing the entire way, just so they could go through the little town it was in.

Even the vase looked familiar, maybe something his mother had owned. He looked at the daisy in it then and how perfectly pristine white it was, not even a hint that it was dying. It smelled like the ideal summer morning in the woods: earthy, warm, and fragrant.

"Are you no longer hungry?"

Castiel's voice brought him back from his thoughts. Nervousness gripped Dean as he shifted in his spot. "Well, things have been a little... traumatizing around here lately." He offered, the corner of his mouth pulled up in a weak grin that quickly vanished, as he looked around anxiously. Drawing in a breath for courage, he said the first thing that popped into his head. "What were you saying earlier?"

The guilt returned in Cas' eyes before he answered, "The last time we had a chance to talk, I asked if I should be jealous."

Dean sighed and wished he had not said anything at all. The desire not to talk about one problem, had landed him into a conversation about another, bigger, problem. _Why couldn't he just sit back and enjoyed the dream as it played out in front of him_?

And yet, he did want to know. Definitely, without any questions.

"I want to be jealous." Castiel stated with the conviction of wanting something without really understanding it. "I wish I could have you all to myself."

A tingle of excitement rushed up Dean's spine, making him shift uneasily again. "Sounds like you're well on your way to achieving that fine mortal emotion." He held up the cup to Cas before he drank from it.

There was a moment of Cas' normal confusion, where he just stared at Dean, before he continued. "My decision is not logical because I cannot give you what they can."

Now it was Dean's turn to be blunt, "Not to point out the obvious..." He leaned forward, locking his fingers as he braced himself against his forearms. "But we haven't completely tried... anything really." He saw the hurt start to form in Cas' eyes. His stomach gripped tighter, making him want to jump up and down like an idiot, anything to get away from what was happening at this moment.

Despite this, Dean found himself continuing, "Although this..." he pointed around them, "is a hell of a start."

Painful nervousness that boarded on anguish settled over Cas. "I don't know what to say."

Dean raised his hand, indicating to the angel with his index and middle finger to come closer. By the time he lowered his hand, and turned his gaze to the side, Cas was already sitting next to him; snug in the crook of the booth and the wall.

The corner of Dean's mouth pulled up in a grin, as he picked up the fork he had eaten with and broke off another bite of the pie. "The crust is the best part. It's flaky, buttery, and delicious."

Extending his arm, he brought the portion closer to Cas' mouth, offering it to him.

Bewildered by what the mortal was doing, Cas just stared at Dean like he had gone as crazy as some believed him to be. Until he finally mechanically opened his mouth.

Quickly, Dean shoved the bite into Cas' mouth. The enthusiasm had returned to his expression as he waited for Cas' reaction.

Thoughtfully, Cas chewed the fruity treat and swallowed. "It's.. delightful."

The answer made Dean laugh, even if Cas did not seem as pleased.

"I am unexperienced in these matters."

"Well, you're in luck then, Castiel," Dean replied, taking another chunk of the pie and again offering it to Cas. This time the angel immediately opened his mouth to accept it. "I've been told I'm a pretty good teacher." He leaned back and watched Cas eating, amazed at how something so simple made him so happy.

He realized then just how much he did in fact care about Cas, something that both made him elated and frightened. Loving something meant that you had a weakness, something else that could be taken from you, or used against you. He could barely keep up with protecting Sam, let alone anyone else.

His own well being always a distant thought that was barely noticed unless someone, usually Sam, made him. "And you're not doing so bad."

A thought crossed Dean's mind then. There was one way he had always been good at, when it came to expressing himself.

Dean quickly licked his dry lips, "You know..." He trailed off and put his arm on the back of the booth behind Cas. "Sam..." He paused again and looked around, as if to make sure this was true before he said anything. "Sam isn't around."

The blank stare he was met with showed Cas had no idea that Dean was trying to hint at something, let alone what. Dean chuckled and scratched the corner of his mouth before again, admiring the perplexed expression on the angel's face.

Cas continued to stare at him for a moment or two before realization finally dawned on him. "You are giving me permission to kiss you like the babysitter?"

Dean laughed, twisting so he could face Cas more, "Yes, you can." He quickly held up his hand and added, "I would prefer if you didn't kiss other people, especially demons, like the pizza man kissed the babysitter."

A thoughtful expression formed on Cas' face, "Was that not the correct thing to do when someone kisses me?"

"When _I_ kiss you, you can kiss _me_ like that. If Meg _thinks_ about kissing you, I want you to banish her. Okay?"

"Okay?" Cas answered with uncertainty, "Though I don't understand..." he was interrupted when Dean kissed him. Passively, he closed his eyes and accepted the action. He followed Dean's lead, paying attention to the way Dean pressed his lips to his own, or how the hunter would capture his lip and draw it into his mouth in a gentle sucking motion.

It was slower than the way the babysitter and the pizza delivery man had kissed, but it was more enjoyable than kissing Meg had been.

Drawing in a deep breath through his nose, Cas opened his mouth and felt Dean's tongue enter. It was warm and pleasant against his own, strong and yet silky.

A strange sensation stirred inside of him and in a nanosecond he replayed the scenes from the porn he had watched. _How much did Dean want to do from it_?

Gripping Dean's shirt, he closed what little distance there was between them, by pulling Dean's torso firmly against his own.

The action made Dean moan softly, pressing into the kiss a little more. Cas could feel the mortal's passion like the lick of a hot fire against his vessel.

One of Dean's hands was gripping the back of the booth, as his other arm came around Castiel's form. His hand pressed into the space between the angel's shoulder blades. Distantly, Dean thought about how Cas' real form had wings, and he had seen them right about there, on either side of where his hand was.

Had he ever had a better dream than this one? Some of the best pie in existence, then hitting first base with his favorite angel, all while having a pretty damn good first kiss in the process. And this wasn't even real!

_Was this a date_? Dean suddenly wondered wildly. Was this a dinner date with Castiel, possibly their first of many dates?

A gasp broke from Dean, making him break the kiss as a shutter raced through him. Castiel's hand...

It had moved over his thigh so tentatively, tracing a path with his fingertips over the firm muscle and almost to his hip. The angel had pressed his palm to the snug fit of his jeans, before sliding them between the seat of the bench and his leg. He then gave Dean's thigh a firm squeeze.

It made Dean push away from the seat eagerly. Instantly, Castiel mirrored his movements and was soon kneeling before him.

Cas' hands were cupping his face then, his tongue plunging eagerly into Dean's mouth, capturing it in a passionate kiss that surpassed the one he had done on Meg; because he really felt the emotion this time.

Dean was more than happy to relent to it. His hands moving over Cas' slender form urgently, trying to tug his tie and coat off at the same time.

By the time he had the angel's tie undone, Cas was sitting back on his legs. Dean's own were almost on either side of the angel's knees. Or at least as much as they could in the confines of the booth.

The angel's fingers were moving through Dean's hair, tugging on it as he made the most amazing, yet soft, sexual noises.

Unexpectedly, Cas withdrew from what was happening.

Initially, Dean didn't think much about it. His hungry mouth sought out the slope of the angel's neck, kissing and sucking on it until realization finally dawned on.

Cas' eyes were moving around the diner, missing the way Dean was looking at him.

"What?" Dean asked, trying to met Cas' gaze. "Why did you stop?"

"The angels are talking." Cas answered vaguely, seemingly indifferent to what had transpired seconds before this.

In the next breath Castiel was standing a few feet away from the table. "I have to go."

"You can't just go. You can't just start something and then..."

Dean's eyes popped open and he realized he was lying in bed still. He groaned and winced a little, wiggling uncomfortably in his spot. _Damn you, Cas_. Dean could still feel the effect of making out with Cas, which left him extremely thankful that he had fallen asleep on his stomach.

Just as he had slid his hand between the mattress and his aching body part he heard a shift next to him.

Quickly he looked to the right and was horror-stricken when he saw Sam staring at him. Despite having no soul to experience real emotions, he managed to look like he wanted to cradle his lap top. At any second he would bring it to his face, pressing his cheek against it, as he rocked himself back and forth; muttering about how enough brain bleach would make it better.

Heat washed over Dean's face as he blinked rapidly. Unable to think of what to do in the seemingly endless awkward situation, he swore. "Fuck."

"I don't want to talk about it." Sam stated firmly.

Dean was so happy to hear that, it took him a moment to process it, "Fine by me."

"I'm going to go now." Sam stated, then got up and started walking quickly to the hotel door.

"Thanks!" Dean called, grinning when Sam responded with: "I don't want to talk about it!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:**

"Are you sure you don't want to come along?" Bobby asked, an apprehensive look on his face, as if concerned that Dean had not heard him correctly the first time.

Trying to shrug it off, Dean plastered on a smile that even he knew looked ridiculous fake. "It doesn't take three people to check out one weird occurrence."

Bobby looked the younger man over, nodding even though the doubt lingered in his expression, especially as he watched Dean squirming around in front of him. "Sure, decided to try something new for a change?"

Dean nodded, "Absolutely..." His smile wavered and he did his best to recover, "something like that."

Sighing, Bobby shrugged, "Call me if vampires attack, or a werewolf comes running through the living room or something."

"Sure," Dean waved vaguely, amazed at how anxious he was to get him out of the house. Like a teenager trying to sneak their crush in after curfew. And in a way, wasn't that exactly what he was trying to do?

Sam was also giving him a perplexed expression, silently questioning everything Dean was saying and doing. "I'll walk outside with you."

The door closed behind Bobby and immediately Dean pressed his back against the wall. Reaching out, Dean carefully lowered a section of the blinds in order to peek at the outside world. He caught Sam and Bobby standing next to Bobby's old worn down car.

_His soul felt like it had been skinned alive._ Castiel's words came back to him then, making his stomach twist and turn,_ if you wanted to kill your brother, you should have done it out right_.

But Sammy looked alright, he didn't look like the broken mass of his soul was causing him problems since they had shoved it back into him. He could still remember how completely pissed off Castiel had looked when he had delivered that message.

The memory of that moment made Dean's throat tighten. He trembled in his spot, forcing the sudden fogginess of attraction out of his head. He realized then that Sam was staring at the building and for a horrible moment, Dean thought Sam was looking right at him.

Seeing the expression on his brother's face made him want to run out and hug him. It made Dean want to throw himself on a funeral prye if it meant keeping his baby brother safe.

And the anger returned. Why couldn't Cas had kept his mouth shut? Sam didn't need to know what he had done for the last year. It didn't help him any. Knowing meant he would start scratching at the wall Death had put up, and that would be disastrous.

The moment Bobby's car pulled out of the driveway, he yelled, "Cas!"

Dean turned around, expecting the angel to have appeared there and was surprised and vexed when he wasn't. "Get down here now! I don't care what you're doing..."

It occurred to Dean how much he really meant that. He didn't care that Castiel was waging a civil war in Heaven. That there were bigger problems than his petty little concerns, at least when compared to the grand scheme of things.

But it was his world that was in danger, which made everything else null and void. In that same moment he realized something else, something even more profound. That sometimes he hated the war in Heaven, not because of the death and destruction it caused, but because it kept Cas away from him so much.

_Jealous of Heaven now, Dean? Can you sink any lower? Are you that pathetic...?_

He paused in mid thought because he knew Cas had arrived. He heard the barely audio-able sound of Cas' wings. He could feel those blue eyes staring at him and he knew without looking that Cas was both sad and disappointed in himself.

It made the anger in Dean deflate.

"I'm so..."

Dean waved him off, turning to look at Castiel. The look that greeted him was more heart wrenching than he had dared to imagine. "It's alright." Dean mumbled. "He would have found out sooner or later I suppose." He drew in a breath and added, "So what should we do about this crazy Mother of All?"

For a few moments, Cas said nothing. He just gazed at Dean as if he expected something else to be said. Dean shifted nervously in his place, "What?"

"Is that all you have to say to me?" Cas asked.

"Don't... not right now." He realized he was looking at the door in a worried manner, only after he noticed the way the angel was looking at him.

"When?"

That was a question he had not expected and it completely took Dean by the surprise that showed on his face. _What was worse than disappointment?_ Dean found himself wondering. Damn it, Sam would know, Mr. Crossword Wiz. Dishearten definitely would have worked and yet it seemed not enough to cover the way Cas looked right now.

"I'm sorry." Cas said softly, his gaze to the floor.

Dean winced, "It's just..."

"We should focus on stopping the Mother of All." Cas answered, finally looking to the mortal. Both his tone and his expression seemed harsh. It was such a sudden change from the way he had been looking, it made Dean's stomach feel sour.

Slowly, Dean nodded. "I don't know if we ever thanked you for helping us with Crowely..."

"None was needed." Again, Cas diverted his eyes and there seemed to be a touch of faux pas, leaving Dean wondering what could have happened. "I was doing what had to be done."

Dean nodded, though he wasn't sure why the answer seemed strange. He pushed it aside easily because he wanted to trust in the being before him. He wanted one person that he didn't have to second guess.

"Well, thank you all the same."

Cas' head tilted to the side as his eyebrows drew in slightly, "Same as what?"

Dean gazed at Cas for a moment and then chuckled, "In other words, I'm thanking you no matter what you say."

"I don't think that's what that saying means."

The look on Cas' face was priceless. It had the overall conviction of knowing that Dean wasn't being completely truthful, and yet, still held an edge of uncertainty in his own knowledge of human affairs to be 100% convinced he was correct.

"What does it mean then?" Dean challenged with an amused smirk.

Cas faltered for an answer, because he really wasn't sure what it meant. "Why are you being so illogical?"

Dean shrugged, "because I'm human?" _And you're so irresistible when you're confused_.

"That actually makes sense."

Dean smiled, realizing that the muscles in his cheeks actually hurt a little from the action. He stepped closer to the angel and started to reach out to touch the hand hanging at his side, without really thinking about it. Just as his fingertips came into contact with the knuckles of Cas' vessel, it dawned on him that this was real.

This was not a dream about him wanting to talk to Cas.

This was not some kind of constructed fantasy about Cas serving him pie. This was real.

When his fingers spread over Cas' hand, and he held it in his palm, it was really Cas' hand that he was holding. The fine hair on Dean's body rose as he contemplated the fact that his secret daydream had come to life and was playing out before him.

He was so fixated on the way Cas' hand looked in his own, that he didn't realize the angel was leaning in until he felt Cas' lips against the corner of his mouth.

A small gasp escaped Dean, as his mouth opened slightly in surprise. He only had to turn his head a quarter of an inch to meet the other being's gaze. His own eyes moving rapidly to try and read Cas and figure out why he had done that... not that he really minded.

"It felt like the right thing to do." Cas answered the unspoken question.

His hand lingered by Cas', while Dean used his free hand to scratch the back of his head. "Well," he drew in a deep breath and continued, "I can't say I didn't like it."

Castiel smiled more this time, nodding in a satisfied manner, "Good. We shall have to try more when Eve has been taken care of."

"Sounds good to me."

/

"I don't understand the point of this."

Dean sighed, "Humor me."

Castiel's face scrunched in confusion, "Do you want me to tell you a joke?"

The sigh that came that time was deeper and had an edge of annoyance to it. "No, I want you to lay there and be quiet. Please."

The angel was quiet for a moment, before answering, "If it makes you happy."

"It does."

Stealing a brief, and unsure glance at the mortal next to him, Castiel closed his eyes once more. He wasn't sure how long he was supposed to lay there, let alone what he was supposed to be doing.

Dean was laying next to him, sometimes staring at him. Despite the knowledge that Dean was throughly enjoying this, Cas couldn't help but think that this seemed very silly. There was also a part of Cas that felt like this was a waste of time. _Shouldn't he be fighting in Heaven right now_? And yet another, more influential part it seemed at the moment, was enjoying whatever it was they were doing.

He had awoken, right where he currently was, although in a more haphazard position originally. He had passed out after pulling Dean and Sam back from the late 1800's. Even with the jump start from Bobby's soul, he had been completely drained and needed a chance to recover from the time travel, and the battle that had ended in another death of a friend.

A friend he had know in an uncountable length of time longer than the Winchesters. And yet, they meant more some how.

He had woken up to find Dean sitting next to him, back resting against the headboard, as he sipped from a mug.

"Dean..."

"Good morning sleeping beauty." Dean had answered without thinking about it, the grin that started to form turned awkward when he realized exactly what he had said. His grin returned when he discovered that Castiel didn't understand the reference anyways.

It was then, that Dean saw it in Cas' eyes. A brief chuckle broke from his lips, "What's so funny?"

"It's just," Cas started as he sat up, "I'm usually the one watching you sleep."

Dean looked away, but the grin continued anyways. His expression changed when he heard the angel's question that followed.

"Sam is not in the room with us?"

His eyes widened, and the fine hair rose on his skin, as Dean stammered out an answer, "No, he went with Bobby to get some supplies."

Castiel nodded in an understanding manner, "Then we don't have to worry about his proximity."

That made him feel both good and bad at the same time. The thought that Cas was hinting at something, caused a rush of excitement and fear. Was he subtly giving him permission for what he was thinking?

For a few painful seconds, Dean tried to come up with an answer of what he should say in response to that. He found himself speaking before he really had one in mind. "I was just wondering..."

"What it was like to watch..." Cas stopped himself, because he realized that his assumption wasn't completely accurate. "What it was like to sleep next to me." He restated his comment and noticed immediately that he had found the answer this time, by the way Dean shifted in an uneasy manner.

Dean's stomach clenched in the ensuing silence. He was afraid to look at Cas, unsure of what he should do. Just as he was wishing he had gotten up sooner, he heard Cas' question.

"Why didn't you just lie down next to me?"

Dean's head twisted as shock swept over him. He looked at Cas as if the simple observation was the most brilliant answer in existence. One he had not dared to even consider.

"Well, I..."

With no further conversation, or any protest for that matter, Cas maintained their locked gaze as he laid back onto the bed.

Dean was about a half a foot away from him on the other side. Without looking away from the angel, he set his drink to the side. Gingerly, he lowered himself to the mattress.

The bed under them creaked in protest, which made Dean's heart beat harder since there made been no sound when Cas had moved. He twisted to his side and finally came to rest on his stomach. Dean swallowed back the lump in his throat as he slid his arms around his pillow, resting his head on it.

Cas was lying on his back, with his hands resting on his chest.

Which was where they were now...

Opening his eyes again, Cas turned his head and looked to Dean. The green eyes that met him looked like they wanted to cry with sheer happiness. He started to open his mouth to ask, then stopped, when he remembered that Dean wanted things quiet right now.

"I didn't think you would be so willing to do something like this." Dean answered finally, snuggling into the pillow more, his eyes becoming heavy.

"I have to admit that I do not understand what you can learn from here, that you cannot learn when I am in my normal posture."

"There are many things that I can learn here, that I can't learn when you're standing." Dean answered, his thoughts drifting off into secret fantasies.

His eyes narrowed in a perplexed manner, before reluctantly, Cas closed them again. He tried to imagine the scene in his head. He didn't have to sleep, he never slept unless he was so completely drained he had too. _Like earlier_. His mind suddenly reminded him.

But why did Dean find so much comfort in something that was so unnatural for him? Why did he seek to put him in these human actions? Was it helpful to him, to make him less of an supernatural being? If so, that saddened Cas because he was an otherworldly being and most likely always would be. The fact that Dean couldn't seem to deal with that hurt him in a way he didn't expect.

And yet he continue to lay where he was. Time passed and when he heard the familiar noise of a sleeping Dean Winchester he opened his eyes and looked to the mortal next to him again.

Dean was deep asleep, cheeks flushed, his lips slightly parted as an occasional snore passed them. He was peaceful, which was a blessing since his dreams were so often plagued by horrors beyond mosts understanding.

Which was when Cas realized, that despite how incomprehensible the whole situation was, he didn't want to leave Dean's side. He wanted to stay right where he was and stare at Dean's face, just as Dean had been staring at him.

With some effort, Cas moved so he was lying on his side, which brought him closer to Dean. He mirrored the way the mortal was lying, with his arms around his own pillow and realized there was something comfortable about it. Like this was how you should lie in a bed.

And yet he wanted more. The desire swept over him as silently as he moved about this universe.

Reaching across what space lay between them, Cas placed his hand lightly on the mortal's cheek, holding his breath in anticipation of Dean's reaction. But nothing happened, Dean continued to sleep, so Cas continued to watch.

And imagine...

Sleepy mornings where their bodies would be pressed securely together, their limbs tangled. The sunlight from the window waking him up moments before Dean. He imagined how beautiful Dean looked in moments like that, and all the times he had wanted to run his fingers through the mortal's short hair and kiss those freckled cheeks.

In that blissful moment, he could hear the soft rustle of fabric as Dean stirred, his eyes slowly opening as a sleepy smile formed. How his blanket would fall from his bare shoulder as he touched Cas' cheek.

Had anything in Heaven, even that Tuesday afternoon of an Autistic man, been as lovely as what he had just thought? Cas pondered that until the sun was really coming up and he could hear Sam and Bobby's return.

Then, with what he realized suddenly was great sadness, he disappeared just as Sam walked through the door.

"Rise and shine." Sam called, kicking the bed, until Dean jerked awake. He watched as Dean scrambled into an upright position and looked frantically around the room until his eyes finally came to rest on his little brother.

The sentence: "Did you see Cas?" died on his lips, but Sam read it in his eyes.

Just like Dean read the response in his brothers and quickly diverted his eyes. Frustration showed soon after, mostly because Dean wasn't able to think of a quick explanation for his reaction, let alone a funny wise crack to distract his brother.

Sam sighed and tossed him the bag with his breakfast in it. "We have everything we need now. We can go and look for the Mother of All."

Dean nodded his head rapidly, fumbling with the fast food bag like he had never held one in his life. "Good." The word burst through his lips almost uncontrollable, realizing he wanted to burst out in tears that didn't seem to have any logical connection. "Good, let's get started."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

/Although we've come, to the end of the road. Still I can't let go. It's unnatural. You belong to me, I belong to you./ Boys 2 Men "End of the Road."

How could you do this to me, Cas? How could you do this to _us_? He couldn't believe this was happening, couldn't believe Castiel had done this. Not after everything they had been through... together.

"How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?"

Dean closed his eyes tightly, not wanting to turn and look at him and yet unable to stop himself.

It hurt Cas to see Dean look at him like that. There was so much pain there and not just from what had just happened. The revelation of him working with Crowley, who they thought had died months ago, was just the latest on top of a stack of betrayals Dean Winchester had faced in his life.

In fact, there was almost a hint of expectation, as if he had seen things ending this way all along.

"Never enough." Dean answered.

"Why can't you see that I'm doing this for you?"

Dean shook his head, "No!" He yelled the single word and stormed over to the angel. "Don't say that, not again."

Anger flashed across Cas' eyes, with a touch of hurt. "Are you the only one who is allowed to be upset Dean? Do you think I enjoy working with those abominations? That I would if I had any choice?"

He took in a deep breath through his nose to continue, but froze. He blinked a few times, wavering in his anger when he realized something. "Are you wearing cologne?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"You don't like it?" Castiel asked.

"Yes... No... that's not the point." Dean stammered, trying not to think about how much he did like it. It was rich, spicy, but had a soft sweet undernote too. Dean wanted to press his nose against Cas' skin, take a long breath in, and just savor it.

"Why did you have to put it on now?" Dean asked, though his tone wasn't quite as angry any more. It was disappointed, like he had realized he was missing out on something that could be exciting.

"I had meant too sooner, but I could not find the correct one. Sam..." Cas paused in his explanation because he knew it could be a sore topic for Dean. And this was no exception. "He had suggested that I try some, that it might help me blend in more with humanity."

Dean watched through the corner of his eyes as Cas took a few steps closer to him, bringing with him the delicious smell of his new cologne. It made his head spin and his heart pound.

"Did I use too much? I'm still trying to figure out the correct amount"

"No, it's perfect..." Dean's eyes went wide when he realized just how much more he did want to focus more on Cas' new scent, than the anger that he had come in here with. _Oh the hours I could spend, showing you just how wonderful you smell right now._

Drawing in a breath, he tried to focus. " We are _not_ going to talk about this. We have more important things to discuss."

Castiel nodded, "Of course, I'm sorry."

"You said that already." Dean pointed out as he moved away from Cas, in the hopes of clearing his senses of his cologne.

"I don't know what else to say. You won't believe me..."

"Because it's bullshit, Cas!" Dean snapped, advancing back towards the angel without a second thought, regretting it instantly. Being this close to Cas, especially when he smelled so good, made his inhibitions lower than they already were.

Blue eyes bore into Dean's, there was an icy hardness in them, the solider of God. "I told you already. I have a war in Heaven and there are regrettable things..."

"You have to do." Dean answered through clenched teeth, breathing deeper as his eyes uncontrollably moved over Castiel.

"Exactly, can't you see how this will make things better for you?"

"Is that supposed to excuse what you did. What you _insist_ on continuing?" Dean hissed back. "Can't you see what a big fucking mistake this is?"

"My cause is just.." Castiel growled back, his nostrils flaring before he suddenly looked alarmed.

"What now?" Dean asked sarcastically, "You getting another voice mail from your buddies upstairs?"

"No."

"Then what? Just tell me, I don't think you could piss me off more than you already have."

Cas was uncertain still, it showed in his eyes.

"Castiel, so help me..." Dean gritted his teeth, refusing to continue. "Just spit it out!"

"I suddenly want to rip your clothes off."

Disbelief washed over Dean's face when he heard that statement. It made things stir in him that he didn't want to think about now and yet couldn't ignore.

Uncomfortable, Cas looked away from Dean. "I had the sudden urge to throw you against the wall over there and..." Cas paused for a moment, "rip your clothes off."

"Damn it, Cas!"

Now Dean looked really disappointed which made Cas feel worse than he already did.

"You don't tell people that." Dean continued, "you just do it."

"With everyone I argue with?" Cas asked, his eyebrows pulling in with confusion.

"No!" Dean said quickly, "No, just with me."

Cas looked to the floor, searching it for an answer before he looked to Dean again. "You did not want to talk about my cologne, but you want me to harm you?"

Dean gazed at Cas in bewildered wonder. For a moment, his mouth hung open as he struggled for an answer. "You are a fucking child." He threw his hands up in the air, before bringing them to his face to rub it. "I'm fighting with... sometimes molesting... a fucking child."

With a sigh, Dean turned his attention back to Cas. "Then again, the fact that you are feeling that could be a step in the right direction?"

"Are you mad at me again?"

Sadness didn't seem to fit how Castiel's voice sounded, nor was it completely fear. It was anguish. Pure fear and pain mixed together. Dean sighed, "Yes." He saw right away that his answer hurt the angel. Which made him both happy and pathetic at the same time. "And no."

Trying to control himself, Dean closed what little space there was still between them, sighing in a weary manner. Snaking his hand under the angel's trench coat, he placed it on Cas' side. He leaned in then and pressed his forehead against the angel's.

Apprehension showed in Castiel's face, his eyes going wide as he searched for the proper way to respond to this new situation. It felt nice, having Dean's hand on his side. He could feel the slight movement of his thumb.

Dean's eyes were closed, but Castiel thought a tear slipped through anyways.

_What does Dean want me to do_? Dean had wanted him to shove him against the wall, which still seemed very extreme. But he felt like he should do something.

The last time they were this close, they had ended up kissing. It sort of felt like the correct thing to do, and yet, he wasn't completely sure.

Finally deciding that trying was better than the awkward silence where he could _feel_ Dean crying, even if it wasn't actually shedding tears, Cas leaned in and kissed him gently on the corner of his mouth.

Dean looked up the second he felt Cas' lips against his skin. Their noses brushed together as they moved together, staring into one another's eyes again.

"Damn it Cas, why didn't you just call me? Why didn't you ask for our help?" Dean asked, his green eyes watering with tears even as they pleaded for an answer.

"I didn't want to burden you." Cas answered softly, realizing then how stupid that really sounded, feeling cold suddenly when Dean tore away from him and turned away. "You appeared so happy for once."

"Happy?" Dean looked as miserable as he sounded. Why was everyone saying that to him? "You thought I was happy? God damn you Cas, I was only doing what Sam wanted me to do." The same self hating guilt that Dean was so comfortable with suddenly started building up inside of him.

If he had never let Sam talk him into going with Lisa, if he had only stayed, things would have been different. Sammy wouldn't have spent all that time walking around with no soul. His soul wouldn't have been tormented in a cage with two pissed off angels for almost two hundred Hell years. And Castiel would have never made that stupid ass decision to side with Crowley. Dean knew he would have been able to stop it. How, didn't matter, he just knew. And he blamed himself for everything that happened to those he loved.

"It's not too late." Dean whispered. "You could stop."

"I can't." Cas answered, meeting Dean's shocked expression with his own outwardly cool demeanor. "It's the only chance..."

"No..." Dean stepped away from Cas, even though his body shook and his already fragile heart was shattering. "No. We..." He indicated between himself and Cas as he shook his head harder.

His skin was turning red, as the misery turned back into anger. "We can't do this... if you're going to side with a fucking demon over me!"

Cas felt like he was standing on that precipitous again. "What should we do then? What should I do to stop Raphael from destroying everything we have done, from negating everything we sacrificed?"

"We'll figure out something else! Anything else!" Dean screamed back, full of rage and frustration because part of him did see what Cas was trying to do. Hadn't they been forced to side with Crowely for a time? _Dean Fucking Hypocritical Winchester, Mr. Do I As I Say, Not As I Do_.

"I found a way. The only way that works." Cas answered in a steely manner. It hurt him to have Dean tear away from him. But he believed that Dean would understand some day. "Is this really..."

"Yes I mean it. Don't fucking hop into my dreams. Don't fucking touch me. Don't fucking watch me sleeping!" Before Dean could finish Cas was gone. The anger vanished as panic crashed over him. He looked frantically around the room, before running outside, looking for Cas.

"I wasn't done!" Dean yelled into the empty night, causing a neighbor to yell at him to 'shut the fuck up and go to bed.'

Dean only realized tears were streaming down his cheeks when the snot was flowing too. He collapsed to the ground on his knees and leaned forward. "You could come back... when you got rid of Crowley." Dean choked out through his tears. "Please..." He whispered hoarsely as his throat clenched from the sobs that were shaking him. "Please come back."

/

Letting Lisa and Ben go had been one of the hardest things he had ever had to deal with.

As Dean sat alone in the shabby motel room, head spinning from the amount of alcohol he had ingested since he had left the hospital, he felt utterly broken and lost.

How had this all happened? Just a few months ago he had been living a pretty decent life. He wasn't the greatest boyfriend in the world, but he had done his best to make Lisa happy. And sure they had little to nothing in common, but they had been good to each other. He wasn't a great step-dad...

_Especially at the end you worthless fucker_, Dean reminded himself.

But he had tried so hard to be the man Ben needed to have in his life. To be everything his own father couldn't be.

Everything that had happened to them, wasn't even what was completely driving him to alcohol poisoning. It was Cas.

The knowledge that he was far away with that fucker Crowely, when he should be here... _with me_.

Dean drained the bottle and let it slip from his hand. It tumbled to the empty space next to him on the bed, where light from the street lamp outside could start shinning over its polished surface.

_They were all so right..._ Dean thought, sorrow etched into his features, _I_ _break everything I touch..._

"Dean!"

Snapping awake, Dean jerked up and instantly felt a wave of regret and nauease as vomit rushed up his dry throat. He threw up without any sense of where he was, or what he was even aimed at.

Sam sighed, having backed away in time to avoid being thrown up on. He had managed to drag Dean to the bathroom before attempting to wake him up again. His first attempt had earned him a groggy, groaning Dean. He knew the Exorcist puking version was next.

Dean had mostly managed to throw up on himself, but he could easily be thrown into the shower and hosed off.

"What happened...?"

"I don't want to talk about it Sammy." Dean answered, his voice muffled by the toilet bowl he was leaning against. "Please... I'm begging you... I... I just can't."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:**

/ Dear God, if you are listening now, I'm down here: dying, begging, crying... I'm making you this promise right now. If you can do this one thing for me, I'll be the man you want. I'll be the man that you need... Just bring my baby back to me. / Anthony Hamilton "Pray For Me."

Cas was gone.

The scene played horribly before him, over and over, like a repeat button was stuck in his head at the worst part.

All hours of the night and day, it haunted his every moment in whatever was left of his life.

He slept and dreamed about Cas walking into that water and exploding into an endless streams of black goo.

When he was awake, he was haunted by the way Cas had looked for those few moments before the Leviathan had taken over.

_I'm gonna find some way to redeem myself to you_.

Dean had believed he would too. He had believed that the trouble was over and they could focus instead on repairing what had happened between them. He had wanted so much to forgive Cas, to be at his side once more, to make it better so they could try to love each other again.

But his life was never that easy.

Cas had exploded, destroying everything but his trench coat before Dean could tell him...

"I forgive you... I love you Cas. I always have... I always will..."

Dean's body shook with tears he thought he couldn't make any more. He hurt, so badly. The pain he felt was worse than anything he had ever felt before. He would take dad dying all over again. He would take ten Earth years in the pit, if it meant that this pain would stop. That the hands of time could be reversed and Cas could be alive once more.

Taking in a few deep breaths. Dean was able to calm down before Sam woke up. Or at least he hoped that Sam was sleeping through this.

Getting up, he stole as quietly as he could out of the hotel room. His face contorted as he struggled to hold back the wave of despair that was threatening to over take him.

He had just gotten through the door when his resistance broke and fresh tears he didn't even know he still had in him, came rushing down his face.

Blindly, he stumbled over to their latest rental and fumbled with his keys. He jerked the trunk open and started ripping items from the back, searching frantically like a drug addict who needed just one hit to be normal again.

And really, wasn't that exactly what was happening?

His fingertips met the folded up trench coat, which he yanked from the trunk and instantly held against his nose. He pressed his face into it like his goal was to suffocate himself, breathing in the lingering scent of the being he had loved and missed so much.

He held the overcoat tightly, shaking with tears, feeling weak, pathetic, and broken beyond any possible repair.

Things would have been far worse if he knew Sam was indeed awake. That his little brother heard everything and knew more than he wanted to admit.

That he too lied awake at night, thinking about what had happened to Cas. But only because he could hear Dean fighting the memory in his sleep.

That his days were plagued by regret and guilt because he could see it in his big brother's eyes, that he was mourning the loss of not just a friend. But someone who was beyond a comrade in arms, or an adopted family member.

He could see Dean dying a little more each day, drinking a little harder every time he picked up a bottle. And Sam didn't know what to do.

After all the times Dean had saved him, he couldn't help him. Not now, not when he needed it the most.

He had tried to talk to Bobby, but Robert Singer had never been the kind of man who had been good at things like that. He had tried to help Dean the best way he knew. By acknowledging that even he had seen that Cas had been so much more to Dean than maybe even he had known.

They both knew that they could not ignore how Dean was suffering, even if he didn't want to talk to them about it. But neither of them knew what to do. How do you help someone get over the loss of their angel? Over someone they might have been in love with?

_Suck it up and move on_, just wouldn't cover it this time.

"Just give him some time." Bobby had suggested.

But how much? Sam wondered as he watched his brother through the hotel blinds. Watched as Dean slowly parted with the angel's coat, carefull folded it again, and tucked it back into the trunk.

Part of Sam wanted to run out and help Dean put everything back in. He could picture the look of disbelief on his brother's face, but maybe it would be enough to get him to talk?

_Probably not_.

He flinched when he heard the trunk slam shut and realized no matter what he had thought might happen, it was too late now. Dean was heading back to the hotel, no longer crying, his face stern even as the desolation lingered in his eyes.

Panic hit Sam and for a moment he didn't know what to do. Should he stay where he was and just confront his brother? Should he throw himself back into bed? Pretend he was sleep walking?

"It, is, so sad."

Sam narrowed his eyes and tried to ignore the hallucination of Lucifer at his side.

"We should brain storm a way to cheer big bro up." Lucifer suggested. "What do you think will put a smile on his face? Flowers? Candy? What really says: I'm sorry your winged cupie doll exploded in a mass of black snot?"

He stole one more glance at his brother. Dean had hesitated at the door, with his hand on the knob.

"Thinking about going back and huffing more Eau de Castiel, are we Dean?" Lucifer asked, now at Sam's side. Carefully, the image of the fallen angel parted the blinds like Sam, so he could peer through them.

Sam's hand dropped away from the blinds, shifting uneasily in his spot. How was he supposed to help Dean when he had Satan constantly whispering in his head?

"Come on Sam, help me, help you, help Dean."

Sam grabbed the meaty palm of his hand and winced as he pressed on the cut.

"Awwww Sam, you're breaking my heart..." Was the last thing Lucifer said before he disappeared.

Sam had just enough time to run to the bathroom, posing in the doorway with his hand on the light switch, pretending to rub his face just as Dean came in.

It was definitely a jolt for Dean when he came through the door and found Sam awake.

And Sam saw the answer to his earlier problem standing right in front of him. Dean wasn't ready to talk about this, whatever was going on with him, because he wasn't ready to face it himself.

"Hey Sammy." Dean stammered, awkward and frightened.

"Hey Dean," Sam answered, managing a pretty realistic yawn. "Everything alright?" He asked, even as he started to crawl back into bed.

Dean nodded, slowly at first and then with more conviction. "Yeah... I... I just..." He looked to the car keys in his hand and faltered for an explanation. "I couldn't remember if I had checked the oil or not."

The excuse was pathetically lame and Sam ached to call him on it. _That's fucking bullshit Dean and you know it! I saw you outside rubbing your face on Cas' coat. What the fuck was that about and why must you keep that damn thing if you are as done with Cas as you say you are?_

But he didn't, "Ok... good night." Sam sunk into the bed, knowing Dean was staring at him, fighting every natural instincts he had to do something besides pretend what he had seen never happened.

"Good night Sammy." Dean whispered back, after a moment of silence.

Sam closed his eyes, feeling his own tears come out as he listened to Dean settle back on the bed next to him. He waited for Dean's breathing to regulate and maybe even a little snoring to happen. But what he really waited for was the nightmare.

For Dean to start twisting in his bedding. For the whimpering to come; followed by the sound of his older brother, the man he admired, to beg for Castiel's return.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:**

/It's hard for me to say I'm sorry. I just want you to know, after all we've been through, I will make it up to you. I promise to. And after all that's been said and done, you're just a part of me I can't let go./ Chicago "Hard to Say I'm Sorry."

The pain had been excruiating. It had crept up his arm, much slower to Cas than it had appeared to Dean. It felt like it had taken ages for the thick, molten energy of Sam's soul's experience in the cage, to work its way through Cas' body.

Scolding heat had filled him, burning him from the inside out, while it clogged his senses and blinded him in a ball of white light. And then it was black and the outside world didn't really matter any more.

In a second, Cas felt like he had taken a giant breath and let it out in a single rush that had left him disoriented. As the world came into focus he realized he was in a rather nice looking hotel room. He was standing in what appeared to be the far right corner of the room, with a single unmade bed to his left. There was a table next to the wall across from him.

Twisting, Cas looked and realized he was standing in the doorway of the bathroom. But it was what he saw coming from there that really shocked him.

He saw himself. The same short dark hair, the same light-colored skin, the same blue eyes.

The world around him went hazy for a moment and then became confusing, as he watched his living reflection walk through him and over to the bed, seeming to be unaware of his presence.

"Dean!"

He jumped when he heard his own voice calling for the hunter, even though he had not opened his mouth. Turning his attention back to his clone, he realized suddenly that they were not exactly the same. No more white dress shirt and dark dress pants, or even the familiar over coat. He, or at least this person who looked and sounded like him, was clad in jeans and a t-shirt that looked like something he had seen Dean wearing once.

Just as he thought about it, Dean appeared from just to the right, seeming to come from the wall. When Cas looked though, he realized there was a sliding glass door that led out on to a communal patio space.

It was beautiful Cas observed. Deep green grass, bushes covered in brightly colored exotic flowers. The sky was clear, the sun warm as it shined through the door and landed on his face. It was hard to turn away from it, this distant memory of Heaven, to finish watching the others in the room.

Alternative Cas was pointing to a mound of colored fabric on the floor next to the foot of the bed. He had evidently stayed there, while Cas had gone to look at the door. Dean grinned and put an armful of guns and ammunition on the table.

"Dean." Alternative Cas repeated softly as he continued to point to the floor.

The corner of Dean's mouth twitched in a barely suppressed grin, as he continued to check the guns, loading the ones that needed it.

"Can you please take care of your clothes?"

"Sure." Dean answered, pausing for a moment to look at Alternative Cas. "Of course I can." He smiled in a cheeky way, winked, and then went back to the guns.

Alternative Cas drew in a breath through his nose, crossed his arms, and moved closer to Dean. "Then why aren't you?"

"Ohhh..." Dean pretended to be surprise and then followed his performance with an equally fake look of contemplation. "You meant: do you _want_ to take care of your clothes?" He grinned again, his eyes dancing with amusement, "I can absolutely take care of my clothes." He paused again and jerked the sliding part on the sawed off shot-gun. "But I don't want too."

Cas regarded the scene with absolute interest, not understanding what was happening, but feeling envious anyways that he was not actually apart of it; even though he seemed to be watching himself.

"After all this time, you still get confused over simple human grammar." Dean shook his head in a manner that might have been sad if his demeanor didn't radiate excitement.

"Assbutt."

His mistaken attempt at an insult struck Cas because the tone he had used this time, was completely different from the original incident. There was no anger in it, in fact, there was an element of real humor that should have sounded foreign and yet came off completely natural. As if he had been playfully teasing Dean by call him that. The same way Dean and Sam called each other _Bitch_ and _Jerk_.

Dean chuckled, "And before you even bring it up, Bobby's place has been a lot worse, trust me."

Cas watched as his look-a-like tilted his head to the side and grinned widely. When he did look away from them he noticed what Dean was referring too. There were at least a dozen dirty, but empty, boxes and bags from fast food establishments. Most of them had their recites still stapled to them, which Cas knew meant they had either been take out or delivery.

But why would they have been holed up in this hotel room for such a long period of time, when it was obvious that neither one of them was worried about anything? In fact, they almost seemed to be enjoying their confinement.

And when he looked to them again, it was obvious that Dean was enjoying this little exchange, Cas could see the signals he had begun to pick up on when Dean was getting aroused.

"Besides," Dean continued, turning his gaze to another gun as if it was more interesting. "You've failed to inspire..."

He barely finished the word before Alternative Cas snatched the gun from his Dean's hand and tossed it down. _That was not very safe, Cas thought_. And shoved Dean against the wall.

"I'm not a fucking muse." Alternative Cas stated, "I'm an angel."

For a moment, Cas was concerned that this more liberal version of himself was going to hurt Dean, but it seemed that the mortal didn't mind. "Thank God for that." Dean gasped before he leaned in to kiss Alternative Cas, and for a moment, it looked like he was going to get his way.

Cas' eyes went wide when he saw the subtle way this twin version of himself, pressed his lower body against Dean's. He was standing so one of the hunter's knees was between his own legs. Cas could just make out a slow, but firm roll of his hips, that made Dean throw his head back and bit his lip.

When Dean looked at this other version of Cas, there was desire in his eyes. But every time it appeared he was close enough to kiss him, Alternative Cas would turn away.

"God damn you." Dean hissed with an edge of need in his tone.

Alternative Cas chuckled and released Dean, stepping away from him. "Pick up your fucking clothes. And don't use my father's name in vain." He indicated to Dean then and for a moment, gazed at him in a serious manner.

Dean took a few steps from the wall, mocking him along the way.

"Now." Alternative Cas added, his tone sharper even though he was smiling, reaching out to swat Dean hard on the ass as he passed.

Dean made a noise that seemed to infer that he approved of being hit on the butt and started grabbing clothes off the floor.

"Thank you." Alternative Cas called, before turning his attention to the guns on the table.

"Don't get cocky, Cas," Dean answered as he carried his clothes back towards the corner where the bathroom was located. "I could always throw all these lovely, smelly, things all over the place." He held up the laundry basket, swinging it back and forth as if to further taunt Alternative Cas. "What would you do then?"

The real Cas, or at least as real as he could assess from the situation, noticed that his doppelgänger didn't seem to be falling for Dean's game.

With a confident expression, Alternative Cas shrugged, "I'd call Ellen."

Cas noticed that Dean flinched, just enough to show that he was concerned.

"I'd talk to Jo." Alternative Cas continued with an matter-a-fact air as he picked up the guns that Dean had loaded. "I'd have her come over and take care of my light work for me."

Cas didn't understand why, but that sentence set Dean off. And not in anger at his dead friends being mentioned, or disgust, but almost in an emotion that Cas could only liken to ecstasy. He ran for Alternative Cas who was heading to the sliding glass door.

But all Dean got for his effort was a face full of door, when Alternative Cas disappeared. Cas hurried to the mortal, worried that he had injured himself, as much as he was surprised he had not gone through the glass.

But he was invisible, so his efforts to check the mortal went unnoticed. Undaunted by the obstacle, Dean yanked the door open and ran outside.

Bewildered, Cas walked over to the front window and gazed out. Watching as Dean attempted to chase Alternative Cas around the Impala. Alternative Cas seemed indifferent to the mortal's attacks, disappearing whenever Dean got too close. He managed to put away everything in the trunk without Dean getting more than a half a foot close to him.

It all seemed so foolish to Cas, Dean knew that he couldn't win. And yet he continued to scramble to his feet, covered in dirt, grass stains, and a slight sweat; and ran after Alternative Cas again. And he looked excited, thrilled even, each fail just seemed to make him want to capture Alternative Cas more.

And Cas ached suddenly to be a part of it. To have Dean come after him with such positive intent.

Until finally, he succeed. Dean slammed hard into Alternative Cas, no doubt assuming he wasn't going to make contact again. But what confused Cas was that not only did Dean managed to catch this other version of him, but that they went tumbling to the ground because of it.

Surely, no matter how he dressed, Cas could stay standing? Dean wasn't that strong...

And then there was laughter. Cas couldn't see everything that was happening, because they were on the other side of the Impala. But he could just make out what was happening under it. He could see that Dean had wrestled his look-a-like to the ground, but it wasn't just the mortal's laughter that filled the air, there was another voice.

Castiel's eyes went wide when he realized...

Clapping behind his head made him turn sharply, horror-stricken when he saw who was behind him. "Lucifer."

"Hello Castiel." Lucifer answered, hoping onto the table. Lacing his fingers, he placed his hands in his lap. "How are you?"

At a loss for words, Cas' mouth hung open for a moment as confusion spread over his features.

Lucifer chuckled, "You're so cute when you don't understand what's going on." With a sigh, like an aggravated teacher, Lucifer turned so he could look out of the window.

When Cas looked again, the Impala was gone, as was the laughter. In fact, the whole scenery changed. It was a snow-covered forest, dead, silent, and desolate. It truly frightened him.

"And there it is." Lucifer commented, indicating to his brother with a pleased expression.

"I don't understand." Cas answered softly.

"What better way to torture you my sweet little brother than to show you what you could have had." He paused to lower his tone in a condescending manner and continued: "What you want so much... but well, can't have."

"How...?"

"When you sucked up all of the damage from Sam's wall coming down, you grabbed me too. And I got to poke around in your noggin." Lucifer leaned in closer to Castiel, in a way that made it seem like he wanted to comfort his brother. "Don't worry, I don't think you would have become seriously anal retentive about cleaning. It was just a game to get to Dean."

"That doesn't make any sense."

Lucifer chuckled, "It would have made sense if you hadn't sacrificed yourself in the name of making things better with your obsession."

Cas downcast his eyes, "I had to redeem myself with Dean."

"I guess we'll never know if it worked or not."

Cas was quiet for a moment and then stood straighter, a small smile appearing on his lips. "I think it did." He looked to Lucifer and noticed he was fading out.

"Don't look so surprised little brother." Lucifer sighed, rolled his eyes, and leaned back against the wall. "I was more attached to Sam than you. So I'm not sticking around, or maybe I can't?" He shrugged in an exaggerated manner and then chuckled, "I know you'll find a way back to the Winchesters eventually. You three are stuck with each other. So maybe that little hallucination I created from your inner most thoughts will eventually come true?" Lucifer continued, barely visible now.

But Cas could still see enough to take in a demented smile on Lucifer's face.

"Tell Sam, when you see him again, that I love him and miss him. And I'll think about him every day in the cage. And some day... we'll be to..."

The rest broke off as Lucifer completely popped out of existence. Turning his gaze back to the window, the glass shattered. First it burst out at Cas, causing the angel to hold up his arms in a natural reflection of self-defense. But the second the glass touched him, it was suddenly yanked back through the hole where the window had been.

The world outside exploded in a flash of colors and noises that spanned beyond existence and seemed to include everything at once. Cas struggled under the force of the wind that was sucking everything through the void in front of him.

And Cas understood for the few precious seconds he had, that his mind was crumbling, and he was succumbing to the damage caused by taking in the injuries of Sam's soul.

He howled in pain as his own spiritual quality, _his grace_, was skinned alive. His clothes were yanked from him, as welts and bruises appearing on his body, where whole bloody chunks weren't immediately ripped. His skin cracked and tore and even then, he knew this was just the beginning. He would heal and be ripped apart again.

And again.

Even as the vessel that had been Jimmy Novak once, and Emmanuel recently; remained perfectly still.

/

Sam was waiting for him, they needed to leave and go far away before their secret was discovered.

But he couldn't make himself act.

Dean lingered in the room, unable to make his body move towards the doorway, any more than he could to remove his eyes from Castiel.

Seeing Cas... standing there at the bottom of the stairs had made everything around him pause. He couldn't think, could barely breathe. But it had not really been Castiel. Not _his_ Cas anyways.

The realization that this was Emmanuel, and that he was just seeing the angel's vessel, had been like watching Castiel die all over again.

So when Cas... _his_ Cas had come back, and those blue eyes had changed just slightly, in a way that only Dean could notice. It had been like coming into an air-conditioned building after working in the hot sun all day. It had soothed the ache in his heart.

But it had all changed so fast. One minute it was Emmanuel, and then Cas was back, but then he had...

Dean couldn't bear to think about it. He winced, tears squeezing through his tightly shut eyelids as he remembered Cas taking on Sam's memories of Hell, swapping places with his brother.

It was so good to have Sam really back in one piece. But it killed Dean to once more loose Cas. He forced his eyes opened and looked to the angel who was sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall. Under the familiar trench coat was the same white scrubs that Sam had been wearing since he had checked into the mental ward.

He had checked out, but they had checked Cas in next.

Meg had said that she would watch over him, but that only made Dean feel worse. He didn't want to leave Cas here, especially not with a demon. But he couldn't protect Cas the way he needed to be now. He knew this was the only thing they could do, to try to stop the Leviathan while keeping Cas safe until he got better. And more importantly, keeping him hidden from those that would try to harm or kill him.

_He has to get better_! Dean's heart screamed. He couldn't really lose Cas again, he would die. He would run a hot bath, write a good-bye note, and check the fuck out of this world.

Sam was waiting for him in the hallway.

He caught the movement of his brother checking in on them through the corner of his eyes. Dean could see how anxious, worried, and frightened his brother was, despite how brief he had peeked into the room. It caused a shutter to rush over him, and a few more tears to escape down his cheeks.

"He's not going to break into a sappy love song is he?" Meg asked, in her dry, sarcastic manner. She was standing in the hallway across from Sam, her eyes on the younger Winchester brother.

"Leave him alone." Sam answered softly. He gripped the doorway, not because he didn't expect this to happen, or that he was even upset. He felt like he was on the edge of his seat though. Watching the best part of a movie, when all the time and energy that had come to this moment, the build up to the top of the mountain, the crest of the wave, was all coming to a head. He was waiting for that award wining line that would cause his emotions to come crashing over the other side, standing in applause because that had taken his breath away.

Dean sniffed back his tears and quickly wiped the moisture from his cheeks. The action seemed to be enough to break the spell on his legs and in a second he was advancing towards the angel.

"Oh my God, he is."

"Shut up." Sam hissed through clenched teeth. He afforded her one brief glance and noticed that she didn't look as annoyed as she seemed to be playing. She looked uncomfortable and even slightly concerned around her eyes.

Her glance moved to Sam, alarmed that he obviously noticed the truth, causing her to straighten her posture. "Would you hurry your dumbass brother up! I have work to do now that I'm stuck here babysitting his broken..." She stopped for a moment as if trying to decide what would be the best insult. "Boyfriend."

Sam turned his attention back to his brother, and saw Dean leaning over Cas in a way that was obviously allowing him to kiss the top of the angel's head. He neither denied, nor confirmed, her accusation; though he thought about it as he watched them.

He wished he didn't have to do this, but Meg had a point, even if he didn't want to admit it. Creeping through the doorway, he forced one of the most awkward smiles of his life. "Hey... Dean..."

"I know."

Sam was surprised that he could hear his brother at all. His voice had been so weak and shaky, and muffled because of Cas' hair. And the angel looked even more tense, his eyes widened a little, as if alarmed because of what Dean was doing.

"Ok." And this time Sam heard his own voice cracking, he nodded rapidly because he wanted to cry too now. "I'll be in the hallway."

Dean closed his eyes, taking in as deep a breath as he could with the tension in his throat, Cas' hair tickling his nose. Pulling away from Cas hurt like there was an invisible cord pulling at his skin, his soul, and every inch he put between himself and the angel was ripping him apart.

"I hope you know..." Dean started softly. "I would stay if I could." He closed his eyes and tried to calm his heart which was beating wildly in his chest. "I hate leaving you here. It's wrong..." A bitter chuckle broke from his lips, making him feel worse. "I would bet you anything, it will be the first thing Sammy says to me when we get outside."

Cold fear crept over him and he could practically feel Cas slipping away from him. The next thing that he said broke from his lips with urgency, as if it was the only thing that would keep Cas with him. "I'll come back, as soon as I can. Please, get better, and fast. Call me, or come find me. I... I don't want to part with you like this."

He reached into his pocket and grasped a small object in it. In one quick motion, before he could change his mind, he shoved it into the pocket of Cas' over coat.

As he stood, he caught Cas' face and froze, his breath hitching in his throat. It had been so long since he had kissed Cas and looking at his mouth and being this close, made him ache to do it again. Just one more kiss, before he walked into certain doom and inevitable death.

Dean trembled, as he leaned in, mostly feeling that this was wrong even though he couldn't help himself. This might be his last chance to do this. Castiel remained rooted in his spot, either to far gone to notice once more, or indifferent completely to Dean's presence.

Closing his eyes, Dean pressed his lips to Cas', his own tears moistening their mouths. He broke their chaste kiss when he felt a soft gasp from the angel. It made Dean go tense, because maybe, just maybe, Cas was going to be OK after all. Maybe, like so many fairy tales, he just needed to be kissed by his one true love and all the spells in the world would be healed.

And best of all, Cas would look at him in a confused manner and ask him where his normal clothes had gone and why did this room smell like old cheese and bodily excretions?

His eyes opened quickly, on the edge of expectation, but was crushed by what he saw. Cas was terrified, looking through the corners of his large eyes in Dean's general direction like a slimy tentacle had come from no where, and had groped him.

Dean could feel the bed shifting as Cas trembled and started inching his way away from Dean. He was breathing hard, as if building up to a scream.

It made Dean take several steps back and away from the angel. "I... I..."

But he couldn't think of what to say or do. He wanted to throw up, to break down and sob on the angel, and beg God to make him better.

But God was on holiday still and they had no time for the rest.

Dean was halfway down the hallway before he realized he had even left the room, Sam trailing behind him with a worried expression.

"Are you sure we should just leave him here?" Sam asked as they walked out of the ward.

A miserable smile formed on the inside, a tiny distant part of Dean was pleased that he had been correct about what Sam would say. He reasoned why it had to be done and joined his brother in the Impala.

_I'll come back for you_. Dean thought as he gunned the engine. _Alive or dead... I will see you again... because I love you_.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:**

/Even though going on with you gone still upsets me, there are days now and again I pretend I'm OK. But that's not what gets me. What hurts the most, was being so close. And having so much to say, and watching you walk away. And never knowing, what could have been. And not seeing that loving you, is what I was tryin' to do./ Rascal Flats "What Hurts The Most"

"She tricked me."

Dean choked on his sandwich when he heard Cas' voice. Looking up, he found the angel standing over him with a demeanor of not just alarm, but anger. A familiar, though recently absent, tingle of excitement rushed up his spine when he saw that expression.

He didn't have to worry about lingering too long on the memory of how he felt about that particular look, because he soon realized he was not in his hotel room anymore. Instead, he was sitting on Cas' bed in the mental ward.

"She deceived me." Cas added urgently.

"I did not." Meg said, as she came striding into the room. She sighed and crossed her arms and Dean could tell that she was trying not to smirk.

The frown on Castiel's face, and the way he glared at the demon through the corners of his eyes, pleased Dean more than he felt was right. "What's going on with you two?"

Turning his gaze sharply to the only mortal in the room, Cas stated, "She is trying to rub my vessel with a holey piece of solidified petroleum oil." Cas returned to glaring at Meg the second he was finished, as if silently daring her to deny his accusation.

Meg sighed deeply, "A sponge bath! I offered..." she trailed off because she couldn't help but grin at the way Dean was now glaring at her. She could see how outraged, offended, and jealous he was all in the depths of those pretty green eyes. "My boss is starting to question the humanity of our little angel here."

Dean knew she had a point. Humans bathed and it was bound to happen that something like this would come up. Although he was surprised it wasn't about eating first.

"I don't require bathing." Castiel pressed, looking at Dean in a pleading manner.

"You smell." Meg commented, waving her hand in front of her face as if the offending odor had reached her, even with all the distance between them.

"Dean." Cas said after glaring at Meg. "Tell her I don't have to take a bath."

Holding up his hands, one towards each of the other worldly beings in front of him, Dean stood and weighed his options. He could tell Cas that Meg was wrong. This would both spoil Meg's plans and comfort Cas.

He stole a glance at Cas, who was looking at him like a frightened rabbit waiting for the okay that the predator was gone. Just as he identified the expression, he realized it had changed. Cas' face showed that he understood, and in a single instant was resigned to his fate of having to take a bath, for whatever reason.

And Meg looked pleased.

Dean opened his mouth to protest when Cas started talking again.

"Will you help me?"

There had been no preparing for that request, even when that had been what Dean had secretly been hoping to do. His option two. _Keep calm Dean_. He told himself. _Cas isn't completely back to normal and there is no saying anything is going to happen_. He started nodding, "Of course."

Seeing how pissed Meg was made Dean suddenly more confident, a small smirk appearing on his lips, "Anytime Cas."

"I'm the one that has been watching over you while you talked to bees and stared at the wall." Meg protested, sending Dean a hateful glance.

Cas shifted, obviously uncomfortable with the position he had been placed in. In fact, Dean was surprised he hadn't flown off to the rec room to avoid the whole confrontation. _Maybe he still would_?

"I know." Cas started carefully, "And I appreciate it, but I would prefer if Dean assisted me. We have a more intimate connection..."

"She doesn't need details." Dean put in quickly, moving closer to Castiel who was gazing at him in a confused manner. He shot Meg an awkward smile, which made the demon roll her eyes.

"Why did I even bother?" She questioned before leaving the room.

Next to him, Castiel relaxed. "Thank you."

Dean shrugged, "No problem." He could see that the angel was still nervous and it occurred to him that Castiel might have created a sort of fear of water from what had happened the last time he was in it. "You know, you don't have to take a bath." He could see hope in the angel's bright blue eyes, which all but confirmed his suspicions. "You could take a shower?"

"What do I require to complete this?"

Dean chuckled, "Well towels, clean clothes, shampoo?" Eventually, Dean went around the room with the angel and located the items they needed. They then walked over to the guys shower room.

Luckily, it was not being used at the moment.

"Ok, these are the knobs for the water. If you're lucky, there will be some sort of label on them to tell you which temperature is which. Usually the cold is on this side..." Dean paused in his explanation, his hand under the running water, when he heard the familiar sound of clothes falling to the floor.

His heart beat harder in his chest, his cheeks suddenly warmer, "Cas?"

"Yes?"

Dean tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. _How many times had he longed for a moment like this? Why here? Why now?_ "Are you naked?"

"Doesn't one have to be naked to..." Castiel stopped when Dean held up his hand.

"Just get into the shower stall." Dean requested softly, using every ounce of control he had to not turn around and ravish the angel senseless... or more senseless than he was already.

Cas' eyebrows scrunched in confusion, even as he started to step into the shower. He paused, half way in and asked: "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Dean answered and Cas thought he sounded strained. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Dean kept his eyes tightly shut, managing to relax a little when he heard the shower curtain close. He willed himself not to imagine how Cas might look right now, or the way he would look when the water started running over his body. His eyes shot open as a familiar throbbing sensation started building inside of him.

He ran through every boner killing, disgusting image he could muster, and then focused on getting the water the right temperature for the angel.

There had been hesitation from Castiel to even try the water. In fact, he wouldn't consider it until Dean did something else for him. "Can I hold your hand?"

Even if he had wanted too, he wouldn't have been able to say no to Cas then. Not when he sounded so miserable.

Pulling his jacket off, Dean rolled up his sleeve and stuck his arm passed the curtain, through the water, and to Cas. He jerked when he felt Cas take his hand, surprised at how hard the grasp had been. But Cas got into the water then.

Dean could feel Castiel shaking as the water washed over him.

"What do I do now?" Castiel asked, after a few seconds under the shower head.

Looking around quickly, Dean grabbed the bottle of shampoo. "Wash your hair."

"Does this require the use of both of my hands?"

Dean looked at the hand he was holding and realized how much he didn't want to let go of it. "Unfortunately, it does." He felt the angel's grasp on his hand tighten a little, making him wince in discomfort, so he added: "You can get out of the water if you want too, but you might..." He didn't get a chance to finish since Castiel was already moving. Since the angel backed out of the water, he ended up pulling Dean into the shower more.

After wrestling with the curtain for a moment, Dean managed to get out of the shower without getting completely soaked. Then, he moved to the back of the shower stall, all while still holding Cas' hand. Or well, Cas still holding his hand.

He spotted an orderly, who was giving them an apprehensive expression. "Hydropho... Aquapho... He's afraid of water." Dean tried, at a loss for a sane way to explain what was happening. _Well you see, a few years ago I fell in love with an angel. Then I found out he loved me too. But it wasn't easy to love each other. Not with fighting the Apocalypse, raising my brother from a special corner of Hell, turning into a God, exploding and unleashing an ancient form of evil on to all of humanity. You know, just the normal struggles of two men in love_.

Quickly, Dean turned his attention back to Cas. "Hold out your hands."

Cas did as he was asked, pursing his lips when he saw the white liquid that was squeezed into his palms. "Is it supposed to look like that?"

Dean found himself laughing, "Yeah, it comes in different scents and shit. Sammy could tell you more about it. I use whatever is at the hotel. Sam has special stuff to make his hair look so pretty."

Cas nodded in acceptance before looking to his hands again. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Ok, watch me." Dean pressed his hands together, trying to focus on the best way to explain this, so he wouldn't think about how naked and wet the angel was. _Focus on his face, Winchester. Don't you dare divert your eyes below his Adam's apple..._

Castiel maintained Dean's gaze, pressing his hands together to smear the shampoo over his palms. Mechanically, he brought his hands to his head and started to slowly move them in jerky motions around his head, like Dean was doing to his own.

Annoyed that Cas didn't seem to be doing it right, or maybe because he wanted an excuse to touch the angel's damp hair, Dean reached out and started scrubbing Castiel's head for him. Without thinking much about it, his hands slipped over Cas', locking their fingers together.

He realized he was rambling then. Talking about anything he could think of so he wouldn't think about how close he was to Castiel, or how good he smelled now, not that he ever seem to smell bad really.

"When Sammy was little," Dean continued, trying to ignore how intensely Cas was looking at him as he scrubbed his scalp. "He would play in the bathtub for hours. Dad hated it because he was usually tired or busy hunting something, and just wanted us to hurry up and get dressed. But when we were alone, I would let Sam play in the bathtub until he turned into a giant prune."

Dean forced a laughed that sounded strained as he continued. "I would steal bottles of Mr. Bubble and just watch him go to town. He would laugh and laugh and splash water and suds all over the place. And when the water was too cold or all the bubbles were gone, we would start all over again. We did that together until Sam was like, ten. God, it made him so happy..."

"Why are you so sad when you think about kissing me?"

Mid sentence, Dean froze. His fingers tangled tightly in Cas's hair, trembling as he finally moved his gaze from the angel's forehead, drifting slowly down to his eyes. He realized his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn't make it shut. He was captivated by the way the angel was gazing at him.

"I thought kissing was something pleasant that humans shared with each other?"

Dean slowly pulled his hands from Castiel's hair, watching as Cas mirrored his movement with his own. Soap dripped from theirs fingertips, as water ran down theirs arms. His shirt was damp from where water had splashed on to him, he refused to look lower on Cas. "It is."

"Then why aren't you happy?" Cas asked in a concerned manner. He could see that Dean looked miserable, like thinking about the answer broke his heart. "Is it because you believe I no longer want to kiss you?"

Dean couldn't look at any part of Cas then. He didn't want to think about how much he wanted to kiss Cas. It felt like every fiber in his being wanted to yank Cas close, and press their bodies together, to love him the way they should have a long time ago. But he hesitated, because this was the same Cas that talked to bees and was frightened of confrontation. What if it was too much to ask for?

But then he thought about the last thing Cas had said. Finally, dragging his eyes back to Cas, he asked, "Do... do you want to kiss me?"

Cas hesitated for a moment, a contemplative expression on his face. "Kissing you was very enjoyable."

The corner of Dean's mouth went up and a small laugh broke the tension he was feeling. "So a yes then." Licking his lips, he felt his smile growing. Quickly, he cupped Cas' face and kissed him firmly on the cheek. He pressed his lips against the coarse scruff of Cas' face, trembling when he heard the softest gasp of pleasure come from the angel's mouth.

Slowly, he pulled away, his lips brushing against Cas' cheek as he departed, revealing how soft the angel's facial hair was despite the initial texture. "We should get you rinsed off." Dean whispered, "Before soap gets in your eyes."

Cas looked up through the tops of his eyes, as if expecting a wave of soap to come rushing over his face. Turning his attention to the front of the shower, he saw Dean's hand waiting for him. Relief rushed over him, as he moved towards the water with a little more ease than the first time.

With his arm extended, Cas stepped back into the water. His hand met Dean's, their fingers brushing before lacing together.

"Close your eyes." Dean explained, bringing Cas' hand as close as he could to himself. Leaning against the wall while facing the shower, Dean gazed at Cas' hand, tracing each knuckle as he explained to Cas how he should rinse the soap from his hair. He was brought back from his contemplations when he realized Cas' arm was relaxing.

He shifted enough to look and realized Cas wasn't standing in the water anymore, but under it. In fact, he was pressed against the wall of the shower stall, gazing at Dean in a way that was both sad and loving. Dean's breath hitched when he saw that, and felt the gentle touch of Cas' thumb against his hand.

And the desire to kiss Cas rose up inside of him again. "We should probably get you dried off." Dean realized he had answered in sharp breath, as if afraid someone was listening in on them. Before he had a chance to think about it much, the water turned off.

Turning quickly, he heard Cas step out of the shower. He listened to the rustling of the towel and the twisting of fabric as Cas redressed.

"Dean."

He turned around when he heard his name, smiling despite himself at the angel. Cas was dressed once more in scrubs, but the material was clinging to his body in spots where he was still damp. Water ran in small trails along the sides of his face, because his hair was still mostly wet. The normal bed head of hair even crazier than normal, an unruly mess of curls and waves.

Picking up the drier of the towels, Dean walked over to Cas. He dropped the towel over the angel's head and started rubbing away the moisture from Cas' hair. "We don't want you to get pneumonia." It was a stupid joke, because he knew Cas couldn't get sick like that. Part of him longed to hear Cas point out the obvious error in the statement, but instead he got a reply from left field.

"You can kiss me if you want too.." Cas whispered. "Like we used too."

Dean stopped what he is doing, but it was Cas who moved the towel from his face. It slipped from his hands, which was startling on its own, because Dean didn't remember letting it go. All he could do was stare into those blue eyes, the same shade as a bright summer's sky. They were so clear and so focused, for a moment he thought Cas was back to normal. No more following paths in flowers, communicating through board games, or refusing to fight with them. His Cas had finally come home.

So whatever resistance he had ended. His hands slid under Cas's trench and along his sides, amazed at how slender the angel was under his ill-fitting clothes. Dean licked his lips as he leaned in to kiss the angel, when a loud noise broke out behind them.

The orderlies were wrestling with a individual who was struggling to get away from them. He was screaming, clawing, and sometimes biting the hospital workers. He turned his eyes to Dean, with an animistic expression of rage.

Dean's eyes widened, just like Cas' did, but not for the same reasons. In a second they had vanished from the shower room and appeared in the rec room. Turning quickly, he found Cas sitting at the table, hurrying to place the pieces of an out dated board game into play.

Sadness crept over him, when he realized Cas wasn't as healed as he had hoped.

As if hearing the mortal's thoughts, Cas twisted and looked at Dean with large, nervous eyes. "Will you play with me?"

Dean drew in a breath through his nose and nodded, "Sure. I'll play for a little bit."

The relief in those bright blue eyes made Dean happy. "Thank you. You can pick your piece first." Cas said as he turned in his chair, watching as Dean moved around the table and to the seat across from him.

Dean paused and looked thoughtfully at the chair he had almost sat in, his hand gripping the back. He drew his lips in, before turning his gaze to the angel. A pleased look crossing his features as he yanked the chair behind himself and moved it closer to Cas.

He sat down then and leaned forward on the table against his forearms, smiling briefly at the angel. As he reached out with his right hand for the dice, he felt something against his side. Dean looked down just in time to watch as Cas slipped his hand under his arm, brushing it against his palm, before lacing their fingers together.

Dean looked from their joined hands, and to the angel who was still admiring them, "Well...?"

"I wasn't ready to let go." Castiel answered, running his fingers lightly over Dean's hand.

A shiver went up Dean's arm and through his body from the way the angel was touching him. "I hope you're never ready to let go."

The corner of Cas' mouth turned up in a smile, his eyes moved over Dean's face before settling on his mouth. He leaned in then and kissed the hunter gently on his bottom lip.

Dean sighed happily, moving to return the gesture when Cas was suddenly focused on the game again.

"Maybe some day you can come with me to look at the bees?"

It wasn't quite sadness that Dean felt, but it's definitely wasn't happiness. He held his breath when he felt Cas rest his head on his shoulder. Slowly, Dean let it out and turned his attention to the game as well. Stiffly, he moved his head uncertainly until it came to rest against Cas'. He jerked initially, almost pulling away. But when Cas had settled closer to him, he found himself relaxing next to the angel. "Maybe."

It was nearly three rounds in before he realized Cas was still holding his hand, which was something that did give him hope.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:**

*** Extra Warning for: Sexual Situations*  
**

/...We found love in a hopeless place./ -Rihanna

_Castiel..._The name came from his lips with none of the humor that it used to carry. This was not a joke, where he asked the angel to bring his feathery ass down here to help them with a task. This was a plea, a cry in the dark begging the angel to come back, because he was lost without him.

But there had been no answer for so long.

So when Dean's eyes opened, and he took in a deep breath as he shot to a sitting position, the empty stillness around him was enough to convince him that the dream was real. They had never found Castiel and he would spend the rest of eternity looking for the man he loved.

A cool, damp breeze washed over him. If his clothes and hair hadn't been caked in grime to the point of being stiff, it might have rustled them. But it did seem to shoot right through the material and to his body under them.

He winced as he moved into a crossed legged position, every muscle in him sore and tense from another _night_ on the ground. He had no way of telling how long he had been down here, every hour passed in an uncountable stretch of time. There was no real morning, and yet, no true night either. The dark branches of the trees spread out over them, blocking the sky from view no matter how high he had tried to climb.

The air was thick and heavy, not quite stale but not clean either. At times it could look thick like fog, others it was so clear Dean swore he could see for miles ahead of him. The woods just went on and on forever. No signs of life, other than the monsters he ran into. Sometimes he felt he would go crazy if he didn't hear something, anything at all. The quiet was maddening.

"You're awake."

Dean actually jerked when he heard Castiel's voice next to him. He twisted hard to look at the angel, eyes wide as he looked the being over. It was obvious how surprised he was to see his angel again.

Castiel was crouched next to him, his eyes conveying simply the way he felt at the moment. Concern and unrealized love.

"You didn't sleep long."

At first, Dean could only look to the hand that was being offered to him. He nodded vaguely, not surprised by that comment. He didn't really need much here. No hunger, no weariness, nothing but the burning desire to get his angel and to leave this place forever with him. It had not been exhaustion that had made him close his eyes, but the desire to mark out the passage of time in some way that he could label as normal.

He slid his hand into Cas', gripping it just as the angel wrapped his fingers around it. The angel stood smoothly, pulling Dean to his feet in the process.

And for a moment, their hands lingered together.

Dean looked at them for a moment, trembling because he realized he didn't want to let it go, and yet, things were not the same between them.

The fight about Crowely had never really be resolved. Cas' mental health was back, but they had not truly addressed the relationship they had both confessed to wanting... twice now.

And sometimes, like now, Dean swore he could see it in Cas' eyes, the uncertainty of where they should go now. Not that they had a lot of time for moments like this.

Their hands dropped away from one another a moment later, when Benny joined them again. He had seen a rather large pack of werewolves coming towards them and thought it might be best if they got moving again.

Dean and Cas had agreed.

They had avoided the werewolves, but stumbled into a small group of vampires. Even as Dean swung his modified knife through the throat of one of the creatures, he found himself wondering about his future and if there was a chance it could still be _theirs_.

He would glimpse Castiel through the corner of his eyes, his breath would catch for fear that the angel was in danger. But then Cas would place his hand on the monster's head and vanquish them with a small portion of his angelic power.

The bright light that burst from the angel's hand would make Dean wince for a moment before the fighting would continue.

And then they would be running again.

Endless spurts of running that seemed to last for hours. And yet his chest wouldn't burn, his body wouldn't tire. He would push on, and on, always looking around him for the flutter of Castiel's coat, or a flash of his bright blue eyes.

They came to a slow stop, no one really announcing that it was safe, it was just an accepted fact.

Leaning back against a tree, Dean slid down into sitting position. He closed his eyes and tried to understand how he could deal with the emotions he was feeling.

Benny had managed to grab some additional weapons from the last monsters they had encountered and was giving one to Cas. It was a small knife, the handle of which was made out of broken piece of wood. Dean didn't want to think about what it could be held together with.

"Could you keep it in your pocket?" Benny had asked.

Dean had just turned to look at them in time to catch the look of confusion on the angel's face, as Cas looked down at the side of his coat. In that moment, he was the old Cas, the angel that had little to no real knowledge of how humanity worked.

"You did know you had them right?" Benny asked in an amused manner.

Horror rushed over Dean's face as he suddenly remembered...

The day in the hospital, so long ago, when he had said good-bye to Cas. That he had slipped something into the angel's pocket. He had forgotten all about it and it seemed that Cas had never found it.

"You don't check your pockets?" Dean asked, as the angel and the vampire turned to look at him. He knew they could both read the urnest expression on his face, but he didn't really care what Benny thought at the moment. The vampire was going to learn about the truth in a second anyways.

"I've never had anything to put in them before." Castiel explained, confusion on his face as he tried to read Dean's expression.

"Well..." Dean looked away from Cas, feeling exposed and foolish at the same time. "Sometimes... people put things in each others pockets." Was he blushing? He probably was.

"I don't understand."

"Just look in your pockets." Benny suggested gently, crossing his arms as he observed the angel in an interested manner. He was beginning to understand why Dean had so fervorly demanded that they find Castiel and that he had to come with them.

Dean stole glances at the angel, growing increasingly anxious because Cas has started with the top pockets and was slowly making his way down to the lower ones.

"I don't have..." Castiel started as he shoved his hands into the deeper pockets.

For a horror stricken moment, Dean was frightened that Cas had lost it. Maybe there was a hole in his pocket and his gift had fallen through? Or maybe during a battle it had been tossed out? His heart was hammering in his chest harder, more frightened in this moment than he was when facing any of the creatures down here.

And then Castiel froze and it was obvious he had found what Dean had been hinting at.

Benny leaned in a little, his eyes dancing with anticipation as he silently predicted what Dean could have snuck into the angel's pocket. A weapon? No, the angel was one. A piece of jewelery? A ring maybe? Oh if Dean had put a ring in Castiel's pocket he would never let the mortal live it down. He already had a dozen playful jabs ready when the angel's hand appeared from his pocket.

And what he saw disappointed Benny.

Dean looked even more flustered, like Castiel had pulled a sex toy from his jacket.

But it wasn't anything Benny would have considered deviant, in fact, it was disappointingly mundane.

"A key?" Castiel asked, turning to look at Dean, met with the back of the hunter's head.

"Looks like a car key." Benny commented, looking at it over the angel's shoulder.

Understanding filled Castiel's features, joy he still didn't feel he deserved filled his expression. "Is this to Baby?"

"Baby?" Benny asked, wrinkling his nose as the angel walked away from him.

Dean crossed his arms tightly over his chest and shifted in his spot. "Maybe." The word burst from his mouth just as Castiel stopped in front of him. He fought every instinct he had to look at the angel, a light sweat forming on his skin, hating himself for putting it in the angel's pocket. It was so stupid. So juvenile.

Through the corner of his gaze he saw movement. He turned enough to watch as Cas dropped to his knees in front of him and settled back onto his legs.

But the look on the angel's expression wiped any doubt away that he had. There was love in those blue eyes, unexpected from both of them, and bittersweet.

"You gave me a key..." Castiel started, looking to the key in hand for a moment, before looking to Dean again. "To your..."

Dean nodded in acknowledgement of the unfinished sentence. He swallowed back the tension in his throat as he whispered what Cas had not said. "I just wanted you to come home."

Castiel's eyes krinkled at the corners as he looked away, anguish on his face because he had not expected this gesture from Dean, and he wasn't sure how to handle it. He had caused so much pain and suffering for the Winchesters, for the world, and he believed he needed to make that better before he deserved any happiness for himself.

And here Dean was giving him such a large part of himself again, without question, without expectation of getting anything in return. He felt like crying and when he looked to Dean he saw the mortal was shedding the tears for him.

"Benny?" Dean croaked; his eyes locked on Castiel's face, searching for the answer, worried still that he had not done the right thing.

"No need my friend." Benny answered, "I'll just scout around for a bit."

"But Sam doesn't have one..."

Castiel's question brought his attention to the angel. He smiled then and nodded in consent to what he had pointed out. It was a rare occasion when he let Sam drive the Impala, a treat. "You're not Sam." Sniffing back some of the tears that didn't escape, Dean reached out and touched Cas' neck, just below his jaw. "I love you."

There was happiness then in those eyes, even though Castiel's smile still had an element of sadness in it, "I love you too."

No questions were asked, the way they looked at each other was consent enough.

A gasp broke from Dean as he was yanked up by the angel. The sound was muffled when Castiel pressed his mouth to the human's in an eager kiss.

Dean's eyes slide closed as he met Cas' kiss, surprised not just at his own eagerness to complete this union, but at the equal need from the angel. There was barely a pause, before their long awaited kiss deepened, his hand moved over enough to cup Cas' cheek, enjoying the rough sensation of the angel's beard on his palm.

He felt Cas holding him close, and realized just how good their bodies felt together, so perfect.

There was a slight push on Dean and he gave into it easier than he expected. His back hitting the tree, as the scent of moss and dry rot hit his nose.

A rush of excitement hit him then, and with surprising ease he rolled them over, so Cas was pinned against the dewy, unmowed, land of Purgatory.

In that moment, he wanted Cas so much. Wanted to join them body and soul and melt into the angel and make them one forever. But they couldn't do that here. Not when a thousand, red glowing eyes were searching them out. Not with millions of monsters hiding in every dark crack, waiting for them to let their guards down long enough to sneak up behind them and slit their throats.

Struggling to slow his breathing, Dean gazed down at Cas, captivated by how truly stunning the angel looked; even in this place. "When we get home..."

The corner of Cas' mouth turned up before he gracefully rose into an upright position.

His movement caused Dean to fall back into a kneeling position in which he was sitting on his legs, trembling all over by the way the angel was looking at him, even as it excited him at the same time.

Cas' eyes lowered, as if thinking about how delicious Dean Winchester would taste, before he kissed Dean again. It was a gesture that looked chaste on the outside, but some how felt lusty at the same time. "It's a date...But until then."

"What does that mean?"

Even as he spoke, Dean went in, watching through his preferential vision as Cas' own eyes closed slightly. He hesitated because at first it was just more kissing. Soft, fleeting kisses to Dean's mouth, first the upper lip and then the lower one.

Then Cas' lips went to his jaw and his neck, brushing against his skin in exciting little pops of heat and pleasure.

His eyes were closed fully now, but he _felt_ that Cas' eyes were closed as well. He gasped softly when he felt the angel's mouth against his collar bone. Dean couldn't decide what to do with his hands. Reaching out, he gripped the angel's coat and pulled on it.

Part of Dean felt like he shouldn't let this continue. The Leviathan were hot on their tracks at all times and could swoop down on them at any second. They were so exposed right now, it was not just dangerous to continue, it was reckless. But he didn't want to push Castiel away. Not when he had ached for this contact for so long, through cold, lonely, heartbroken years.

With a sharp grunting noise, Cas copied Dean and gripped the mortal's jacket. He pulled it with such force it slipped from Dean's shoulders, capturing him mouth for a heated kiss.

Dean wasn't sure if Cas had meant to do it, but there was something extremely thrilling about it anyways. It fanned the flame of desire in him and made him hungry for more. He struggled against his jacket, which he swore the angel was using to intentionally restrain him now. Desperate for some outlet for the passion that was building in him, he pressed his lower body against Castiel, loosing his breath in the intensity of their kissing.

The experiences was only heightened when he felt Cas come closer, moving to straddling his knee.

He was so lost in the kiss that was happening, he didn't realize Castiel had worked his pants open until the angel's hand had slipped expertly in it.

Tearing his mouth from Castiel, Dean shuttered in reaction to the sensation of Cas' hand against his sensitive organ.

_You don't have to do this..._ Dean's gaze expressed to Castiel, even as he was panting.

But Castiel silently hushed him, _I want too..._

Dean leaned in and kissed Castiel again, shorter this time since he wanted to look into those eyes. "Let me..." He started, wiggling at the coat easier now since Cas had released it.

_No_, Castiel's expression said back. _This is for you. I just want to make you happy._

"When we get topside?" Dean breathed, his breath hitching since Cas was already stroking him.

Castiel nodded enthusiastically, "A lot."

The corner of his mouth turned up in a brief smile, even as he pressed his face against Cas' neck. He jerked his arms free of his jacket, letting it fall to the ground behind him. He wound his arms around the angel, one hand clenching the back of Cas' coat, while his others slid through the angel's hair and gripped it.

He didn't care that he was breathing in the layers of dirt and blood that had been caked on the angel's body, anymore than he supposed Castiel had cared about it. None of that matter at the moment.

Castiel's hand was so warm against his arousal. Not the normal kind of heat that comes from a human palm. It was like the few times he had let himself get talked into using that heated lubrication, that warms with friction. It heightened the moment now in a more powerful way than he had ever felt before.

He rubbed the back of Cas' neck, massaging the tense muscle, as he moaned softly. If getting a handjob from Castiel was this glorious, he didn't dare dream about what it might be like to actually have sex with him.

Whatever Cas was doing to him, felt like energy was seeping through every inch of his most sensitive areas, stimulating him all at once and coaxing him to his climax.

And he ached for it, he wanted to orgasm as much as he wanted to savor the moment forever. He wanted to cry from the sheer pleasure he was feeling like it was liquid rushing through his veins.

And when he managed to look at the angel again, he realized Cas was gasping right along with him. His eyes dark with his own arousal and Dean realized he was getting a glimpse at what it was like to be Castiel's lover.

He had found his release then and not a moment too soon. They had just enough time to get themselves together and join Benny as they continued fighting their way to the portal that would hopefully take all three of them back to the surface.

But when Castiel slid his hand into Dean's, he found himself holding it securely. He would not let Cas go, he would not lose his angel again.


End file.
